


DC Writing Prompts

by redrobin1989



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics), Shazam! | Captain Marvel (Comics)
Genre: Gen, I'm not going to tag every single that happens in this collection, M/M, at least thats what I was going for, but its a lot of bullshit and family bonding with a few surprisingly sweet moments, cause theres uh a lot of variety
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-28
Updated: 2019-05-06
Packaged: 2019-12-25 20:49:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 62
Words: 84,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18269123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redrobin1989/pseuds/redrobin1989
Summary: A series of writing prompts and short fics from tumblr about the extended DC universe and all the craziness that ensues. This here has everything from fluffy batfam shenanigans to villain AUs to in-depth character explorations and everything in-between.





	1. Bruce Embarrasses His Kids

_Soo, can you write a sequel to the fic where Dick brings up Jason's old Robin costume (and successfully embarrassing him), where Bruce brings out the old scrapbooks of Dick, Jay, and Timmy? (Successfully mortifying all three boys, and bringing up old, embarrassing stories that occurred to them)_

* * *

 

Bruce really hated fighting with his partners, aside from the fact that it interrupted that strong, united front he had come to rely on, they just had to make the whole ordeal  _personal_.

“You know what your problem is B?” Nightwing shouted on top of a roof that every pimp and junkie in Crime Alley could probably hear. “You don’t know how to feel; you just bottle everything up and come across as a coldhearted bastard. And I try, I try so damn hard to respect your boundaries but it’s hard when I can’t even tell if you like me half the time, much less love me.” Bruce fought down the sigh that was building in his chest. He wondered if it’s always this hard with children, or just vigilante ones.

“Nightwing, calm down,” he said dryly, hoping to talk down his eldest from tirade but it only seemed to get him more worked up.

“You never wanted to deal with people, you just want someone to control. You want someone as empty and hollowed out as you are who just blindly follows your orders and never asks for anything in return.” Dick’s face was flushed beneath his mask and he pointed at himself. “But sorry, I need reassurance sometimes. I need to hear you admit sometimes that you care, that it’s not just about the mission sometimes. I mean,” some of the fight drained out of the young hero. “Do you even notice us outside of our costumes? Are we anything more to you than an extra hand in the field?” He asked with a sad sigh.

“Christmas Eve, your third year at the house.” Bruce said softly so only Dick could hear him. “You accidentally got a hold of some alcoholic eggnog and staggered around for hours, stripped down to your underwear, singing some old song in Romani.” His lips twitched slightly at the fond memory but he needed to remain serious. Dick’s face softened at the story.

“Oh yeah, I forgot about that. My head was killing me the next day, Alfie let me open my presents in bed.” He chuckled warmly.

“It’s something I cherish,” Bruce admited quietly, “those quiet moments I’ve had with you, with all of you, they’re the reason I can keep going every night.” Dick smiled and put a hand on his shoulder. “I can reminisce on them any time seeing as I have a few dozen photographs of the event, I’m sure Barbara and your friends would enjoy them too.”

Nightwing froze, his striped fingers clenching Bruce’s shoulder in shock as the full implications hit him. “Oh man, B, you wouldn’t do that. That’s like… practically illegal to break out the embarrassing cutsie pictures.” Dick moaned.

“That depends, are you done with your little temper tantrum?” Batman questioned, smiling when his son started to laugh.

“Oh man, talk about tough love. Fine, I give; I’ll keep our personal arguments to the house but please give me those photos, including the negatives. I won’t get my teammates to respect me again if they see those.”

“You’ll have to talk to A about that one, he’s particularly fond of the one where you’re drunkenly sprawled half naked in the aft ballroom. 

XxX

“Hood, step down.” Bruce ground out roughly, hating that he had to use such a tone with his boy but Jason wasn’t in his right mind right now. He’d been doing so good, being friendly with Dick and Tim, refraining from lethal force. He’d even come over to the Manor once or twice for dinner in the last few months. But now he’s angry, enraged to the point of recklessness with a gun pressed flush against the temple of a local dealer who had purposely sold low quality drugs to children because they couldn’t afford any better. Now they had a morgue full of dead children and this sick, twisted man was threatening to send his boy over the edge again. “Put your weapon down and back away.”

“This scum deserves to die Batman; sixteen kids are dead because of this bastard.” Jason shouted, ramming the pistol harder against the dealer’s temple. “You can’t stop me from doing what needs to be done!”

A few of Gordon’s men slowly approached but he saw Jim wave them off. He may not know the whole story but he knew that Batman was the only one who could talk down the Red Hood. Plus he knew that this was a family affair.

“We caught him Hood, you and me. He is going to suffer the consequences of his terrible actions for the rest of his life in prison. Don’t be like him; don’t put him in the same morgue as those kids you’re trying to avenge.”

Jason made an enraged keening noise and Bruce knew that inside his helmet, Jason was crying. Jay used to do that as a boy; he’d get so worked up during an argument that soon there’d be tears spilling out of his eyes and the both of them would fold. As much as he hated to see his boy in pain, the familiar holdover from his childhood gave him hope that the situation, that Jason, could still be saved.

“Do you remember how much you used to idolize Nightwing?” Bruce began slowly, going out into uncomfortable and unfamiliar territory. But for Jason, well he’d do pretty much anything. “You acted indifferent but I saw how you admired the idea of Robin, how much you wanted to be him.”

“What the hell are you talking about, old man?” Hood demanded in a scratchy voice but still with his gun trained on his target.

“One night I came home from patrol early and I found you bouncing around the cave in the old Robin costume, shouting out witty retorts and doing some incorrect, but enthusiastic, martial arts.” One of the officers behind him snorted quietly into his hand while Bruce held firm. “The costume was far too big for you; the boots kept slipping off and you stole one of my belts to keep the pants up.”

“Why are you,” Jason hissed and Bruce could hear the embarrassment in his voice.

“I took some stills of the event from the security footage. I’ve kept them safely hidden away all these years but I promise you, I will send digital and hard copies of those photographs to every member of Gordon’s MCU if you shoot that man.” There’s a hushed silence before Jason lowered his gun and turned to look at him with astonishment.

“Are you actually blackmailing me? With  _baby pictures_?” In the moment Hood had taken his attention off the dealer, the man made a break for it. Jason spun back around, bringing his weapon back up and aiming it. It’s an easy shot for a man like him, but now Gordon’s men have run forward and brought down the dealer on their own and are cuffing him. Jason growled angrily, tensing up before slowly allowing himself to relax. He opened his hand and let the gun clatter to the ground.

“Can’t risk losing my street cred over a couple of dumb old pictures.” Jason murmured softly, his voice teasing and maybe even a little bit relieved, of course that could just be Bruce’s wishful thinking. He wanted to say more to the troubled young man but Hood was already running, halfway up a fire escape before Bruce could move. Well, there were other days and other pictures.

“Good job there,” Gordon said conversationally as his men haul off the dealer where he’d receive proper punishment. “I understand that you made a promise, but how would you feel about a trade? The picture of your boy in green underwear for Barbara getting tangled up in the monkey bars.”

“Deal.”

XxX

“How long have you been awake Timothy?” Tim paused halfway through his yawn at the gruff voice behind him. You know things were bad when adults pull out the full name. He shook himself awake a little more before turning to face Batman or Bruce really seeing as the cowl wasn’t up.

“B it’s fine, Deathstroke’s been giving the Titans trouble again and I need to be more prepared this time.” Tim sighed and turned back to the screen where he’s been staring at Slade Wilson’s file for hours. “He critically injured Bart last time, made fools of us. We need to be ready,  _I_  need to be ready.” Tim said, sinking into his chair as he rubbed at his eyes.

“Tim, you know as well as I that you reach a point in investigations where you’re overworked and overrun and you’re not thinking straight.” Bruce said putting his hands on Tim’s shoulders. “I guarantee you this will still be down here in the morning and that you’ll be thinking much clearer.” Tim frowned in annoyance and leaned closer to the screen because the words were starting to blur.

“Yeah, got it,” Tim said with a dismissive wave. “I’ll be up in a half hour, I promise.”

“Tim,” Bruce growled out not unkindly. “This is the fifth time I’ve had to come down here. I thought I’d give you one more chance before Alfred dynamited you out of the Cave.” Tim sighed.

“Bruce,” he moaned, “you don’t understand.” He said like the teenager he occasionally was.

“Oh I think I understand obsessive behavior and near idealistic sense of martyrdom better than most,” Bruce said dryly. “I can see that you’re not going to make this easy so you’re forcing me to fight dirty.” Tim’s body tensed up as his chair was spun around, expecting Bruce to unleash some physical pain upon him.

“You were the least skilled of all the boys when you first came to me,” Bruce began ominously. “You had to work extra hard to gain the muscle and stamina required before you could even undergo my training.” Tim made a face but nodded, it’s not like it wasn’t true and those were some agonizing couple of weeks.

“I have photographic evidence of you in brightly colored sweatbands and yoga pants doing Jazzercise in order to work on your flexibility.” Bruce deadpanned with an eyebrow raised in amusement. “The Titans won’t be worried about Deathstroke if they’ve seen 13 year old you chanting along with an exercise video from the 1980’s.” Tim’s mouth dropped open in shock at the threat.

“You wouldn’t!” He shouted, wincing when he saw the seriousness in his mentor’s face. “You can’t,” he said softer this time, shrinking in his chair like a guilty child.

“I will, unless you go to bed and let me and Dick talk to you about how to deal with Deathstroke over breakfast tomorrow morning.” A slight grin, “it’s up to you but I have seen the costumes that your friends wear and I think they’d approve of your workout clothes.” Tim threw his hands in the air.

“I give, I’ll go upstairs, have a glass of milk, sing a song, do anything you want just please don’t show those pictures.” Bruce smiled and lightly, but forcefully helped his bird out of his chair and guided him to the stairs. “I can’t believe you’d stoop so low as threatening us with pictures. I’m going to have to dig up some dirt on you for next time.” Tim said through another yawn. “Also you know, brightly colored workout clothes was cool a few years ago.”

Bruce rolled his eyes as he patted Tim’s back, “whatever makes you sleep at night, champ.”

XxX

“Cassandra, what are you doing in here all alone?” Bruce asks poking his head into his new daughter’s bedroom. She looked at him for a moment and he wondered if this was okay. He’d raised and trained three boys but girls were different altogether. She smiled though and beckoned him in.

“Don’t know where else to go,” she shrugged as she turned her head to continue staring out the window.

“The house is yours completely, you can go anywhere, do anything you wish.” He said stepping closer but still giving her space. He imagined after years of David Cain’s brutal abuse and behavior, she would like to keep others at arm’s length. She shrugged and, while he’s not the body language expert she is, he can sense the discomfort in it. He frowned, he didn’t expect her to feel at home right away but she was so quiet, so different from the boys that he didn’t know the best way to make her feel safe and wanted.

“Where are the others at?” He asked conversationally and was rewarded with another soft smile.

“Doing something foolish,” she said with an amused tone in her voice. He decided it was best he didn’t ask, he’d end up hearing about it later anyway when someone’s nursing a ridiculous injury at dinner. But there was a kinship in that amused affection at the other children’s antics that he recognized.

“You know, Dick has accidentally taken a bite out of decorative fruit more times than I can count; he always makes this great face when he realizes it’s wax.” He says watching as Cass’s face remains neutral but her eyes light up. “Jay tried sneaking out his window one night and while crawling down the trellis, he got stuck and I had to get a ladder out at 2:30 in the morning to get him down.” She tapped her finger against her cheek in amusement.

“And Tim?”

“It would take more time than we have to go through all the odd and embarrassing things I’ve caught Tim doing,” he held out his hand. “But we might as well start now. Alfred’s got a couple of photo albums dedicated to kids in various ridiculous situations.”

“Sounds nice,” she said, giving him as broad a smile as he’s ever seen from her, putting her small but powerful hand in his own. “My brothers are silly.”

“That they are my dear, that they are.”


	2. Dick and Jay Switch Places

"Hey Dick, I need your help with something." Tim asked while he walked into the front parlor.

"It's Jason you prat," came the gruff response from the tall antique chair.

"Oh sorry Jay," Tim hummed, about to walk out of the room and go find Dick when he paused. Hold on, rewind, look again. He turned around to find that he hadn't made a mistake. That  _was_  Dick Grayson, former circus acrobat and oldest Bat brother, clad in Jason's slightly-too-big leather jacket, a white t-shirt and black jeans. He even had an unlit cigarette perched teasingly between his lips. He gave a very poor imitation of Jay's usual rakish grin, mostly because it was obvious Dick was trying not to burst out laughing.

"Why are you wearing Jason's clothes Dick?" Tim asks robotically, wondering why he didn't run for the hills once he got a taste of how bizarre this family was when he was still a young, naive Robin. Dick pulled a pair of dark sunglasses out of the jacket pocket and put them on with less than his usual grace.

"I'm not Golden Boy, Bird Brain." Dick responds in a gravely voice. "It's me, Jason, the second Robin, who thinks he's so hated despite that fact that he's loved and missed by pretty much everyone. Have I mentioned that I died that one time? there's a quota us undead boys must meat. I also use guns like a total tool, because I'm trying to be a bad boyeven though I'm really a nerd." He pulled out a small water pistol and sprayed a little at Tim. "Pew, pew, Replacement." Tim squinted his eyes. there was something going on here, something insane and ridiculous and he wanted no part of it.

"Alright, _Jason_ , let me know when you're feeling more like yourself again. When you see Dick, tell him I'll be down in the Cave avoiding whatever this is. I want his advice on the Penguin case before I move forward with my plan."

"Okay Timmy, I'll be down in a bit." Dick chirped before coughing and lazily crossed his arms as he slouched in the chair. "I mean uh leather and pain are the only friends I've ever known."

XxX

"Grayson! Pennyworth is busy so I need you to drive me to Doctor Thompkins for my physical." Damian shouted, stomping around looking for the eldest Robin. "My biology has been perfected by science and technology so it's not like this is necessary but Father is insisting." He walked into the kitchen where he caught a glimpse of his older brother riffling through the fridge. "Did you hear me? I'm more than willing to drive myself but I know Father would be displeased with you and you get pathetically weepy when he's angry at you." Damian grumbled as he tapped his foot.

"Just hold on Dami-baby," a slightly off key sing song voice replied. "I need to have my fifth bowl of cereal this morning because it's the only thing I eat because it gives me an aura of a handsome but careless teenager I never grew out of." Damian blinked as Grayson, no Todd, pulled himself out of the fridge. He was wearing one of Grayson's shirts that's far too tight on him and a pair of WE sweatpants. He's smiling too but it looked like it's causing him great pain. "Don't worry, I'll drive you, you obnoxious little demon that I somehow like because you're basically a smaller version of Bruce that I can control and give all the love I was denied as a child in this miserable house."

Damian took a step backwards. Todd hadn't seemed any different when they'd patrolled last night. In fact, Damian was fairly sure, Todd didn't follow them back to the Manor. He and Grayson had had something of a tiff halfway through their route. And now he was wearing Grayson's clothes and acting like him, Damian squinted suspiciously.

"Did you kill Grayson in a fit of rage and think dressing up like him will prevent us from noticing?" Damian thinks he would be upset if Todd really had killed Grayson but it's the only reasonable explanation he has for this trainwreck. "Where did you hide the body? Is Drake in on this too?" Todd clicked his tongue and flaps his hand in a poor attempt to mimic Nightwing.

"Silly Dami, you just don't recognize me because I normally keep up this silly pretense of being perfect and wholesome all the time when, really, I'm just as big a mess as everyone else but I don't even have the decency to act like it." He took a step forward and Damian took two back. Todd smiled wickedly, not one of Grayson's but one of his own. "Now come give your big brother a big ol' squishy hug." Damian had fled the room before Todd could finish the sentence.

XxX

"Do you think it's safe to come out?" Damian asked, angry at Grayson, at Todd, at his entire life that had led to this moment where he was hiding under a pile of blankets with Drake of all people. He wished sweet death would come for him already. Tim peeked quietly outside the blankets before hiding back beneath the pile.

"I can still hear them talking," Tim whispered. "They're still acting like each other and doing ridiculous pantomimes." Damian groaned, but softly, he doesn't want to give away their position after all.

"Do you think we should attack? Make them end this foolishness?" Tim pursed his lips before shaking his head.

"I wouldn't risk it. Jason, or Dick uh Jason who is pretending to be Dick, is looking for you, wanting to give you, and I quote,  _super lovely big brother hugs of affection_. And Dick who is Jason still has those water guns and is coming to 'gun me down'. I think we're better off where we are." Damian let his head hit the floor.

"I hate you people."


	3. Tim and Kon Take a Moment

Conner knew this was strange. He knew this was probably going to get him in trouble with the Justice League. He also knew that he was a clone grown in a pod and his boyfriend pretended he was a songbird. So, really, everything was relative.

There'd been a fight downtown Metropolis, nothing earth-shattering but it had been a long drawn out battle and even the indestructible half-Kryptonian was feeling a bit stiff and sore. And if he was feeling that beat, God only knows how Tim felt.

They were atop the Daily Planet, curled up together with their feet over the edge. It probably wasn't the best idea for the unofficial sons of the two most famous heroes on the planet to be canoodling on top of a building filled with reporters. But Tim was so tired he could barely stay awake much less move and Conner had wanted a little time with his man without the others giving him grief. So, here they sat watching a large group of reporters take pictures of them in compromising positions. He could already see the tabloids; Batman was  _so_  going to kill him.

Tim sighed and nuzzled a little closer so his head was resting comfortably on Conner's shoulder and a few wayward strands of his hair were tickling the clone's nose. His eyes were closed and his breathing was slow but Conner knew better than to assume that a Bat wouldn't be alert and aware of his surrounding. Conner suspected that Tim, like himself, just was too tired to care about the consequences at the moment. The clone sighed right back and rubbed Tim's arm gently and placed a soft kiss on top of his head. Hey, if people were watching them might as well make it good. He didn't want it getting around that he was a bad boyfriend.

Tim's head slowly lifted and moved so that their faces were just inches apart. It was incredibly alluring and he imagined it looked that way too judging by the increased activity 80 stories below. Tim snaked a gloved hand around the back of Conner's neck and gently pulled him down until Tim's lips were ghosting on top of his own. His fingers delicately played with the hair on the back of his neck causing the clone to shiver slightly. Tim's lips twitched upward slightly against own.

"If I don't get a strong cup of coffee within the next 90 seconds I will pull out my Kryptonite ring and beat you senseless on live TV then mail the broken pieces of you to Luther." Tim said in a voice completely void of emotion despite the incredibly provocative position they were currently in. Conner couldn't help the amused snort. The reporters below were probably speculating what loving words of adoration the human was saying to his alien partner. They couldn't possibly know it was just Tim being Tim and that Conner wouldn't have him any other way. He was also running out of time; Tim was  _always_  serious when it came to his coffee. He leaned forward and completed the kiss before gathering the disaster that was his boyfriend into his arms and lifting them both off the building.

"I think I saw a shop still standing a few blocks away," Conner answered giving Tim a moment to secure himself before the flight. Below, the reporters continued their frenzy. Let them. Let them speculate on the mysterious Robin and the powerful Superboy. They could focus on the glamour of capes and forbidden love, that left room for Tim and Conner to be themselves and enjoy the other's company.

"For your sake there better be. Now come on, you only have 47 second remaining."


	4. Tim Gets Hurt, Bat Dad is Worried

Movies say that when you're in the middle a fight, time seems to slow down. For Tim, it's just the opposite; everything seems to go even faster, punches are thrown, shots are fired in in such rapid succession that it's almost impossible to keep track. Except that Tim loves it, it's times like these that it feels like the rest of the world has finally caught up to his brain.

The Ghost Dragons and the Devil Pigs had become embroiled in a bitter turf while he'd been away training in Paris and he'd come back to find half of Gotham City in shambles. As much as Bruce wanted to continue training him before involving him in such a big conflict; they really did need all hands on deck for this one. Tim dodges a flying thug that Nightwing has tossed but Tim is too busy with his own fight to check in on the older man. Dick has been doing this a lot longer than he has, he can take care of himself.

But Bruce on the other hand... Tim spins on his heels to kick in a guy's jaw, trying and see where Batman has gone. They're still very new to their partnership. Tim was only Robin for a few weeks before he was off to Paris and he's still worried for the state of his mentor. He became Robin to protect Batman, to save him from himself, and he hasn't been here long enough to help. He sees Bruce in the periphery punching guys one after another, Tim is about to turn away and resume his own battles when he hears an ominous click amongst the chaos.

There, off to the side hidden in the shadows, is a young boy in gang colors with a Colt .9 mm in his tiny hands. He raises the heavy weapon with shaking arms and aims it directly at Bruce's back. And time doesn't slow like the movies say, he sees the gun barrel recoil back as the trigger is pulled, he hears his quick, ragged breath as he crosses the small distance between him and Bruce who isn't even paying attention. This is why he needs a Robin, why he need Jas-

"Batman, look out!" He vaguely hears himself shout, hyperaware of all the activities but most of all of his body slamming into Bruce's and a sharp raging pain burning a fire into his side. He stumbles, tripping foolishly over himself as he loses his balance and falls into Batman.

"Robin!" He hears the man shout, a panicked, guttural cry that shakes Tim slightly out of stupor. The fight is still going on, he can hear Nightwing making his way over, he's been shot. He takes a deep breath as Batman presses hard onto the wound in his abdomen. "No, not again, I cant deal with this again." He hears Bruce mutter under his breath, sounding barely in control himself. "Nightwing, we're leaving. Now."

And Tim learned enough to Paris to recognize that he's starting to go into shock from all the pain and activity. Everything around him is too much, too loud so he squeezes his eyes shut as Bruce injects something into his neck, probably some sort of painkilling sedative. It must have been pretty powerful because everything becomes sort of washed out after that, long and painfully slow. The feel of Batman grappling them to safety. Nightwing's shaking fingers in his hair. Hushed whispers over him occasionally rising into rapid, wired arguments before simmering down again. He hates the slowness, how will he ever catch up to Bruce if everything is dragging him down.

"Tim," he hears and he struggles to open his eyes and answer the voice. People never call for him, if he doesn't answer they just might leave him forever. "It's alright Tim, relax, you're safe. You're in the Cave, you're going to be just fine." There's a hand on his cheek, a hand, not a glove or armor, but actual human skin. It's nice, Tim decides.

"Alfred had to pull the bullet out, it was tangled in the tendons of your oblique muscles. There shouldn't be any long term damage but you'll need physical therapy for a while." Tim scrunches up his nose at all the words and information he thinks he's supposed to understand but he can't get the words to settle into his brain and he loses them. As the warm hand moves up and starts running through his hair, he decides it doesn't really matter.

"You can't ever do that to me again, Timothy." The voice warns sternly. "You," the voice stops as if gather up courage. "You told me that Batman needed a Robin but you got it all wrong Tim, I don't need a Robin, I need you. All you boys, your brightness and dedication and spirit, that's what I need son. You gave it back to me, after Jason and I will sooner take that cape from you then have to put another boy in the ground." There's a tight grip on his hair before it's relaxed and a soft sigh fills the air.

"I've never been good with expressing myself to others, especially about these sorts of things. It's probably why I can talk to you now, when you can't even hear me." The hand retreats and settles on Tim's shoulder giving him a gentle squeeze. "We'll talk about this later, when you're feeling better. But I want you to know that no matter how I may seem, I am very proud of you and I'm glad you came into our lives. Sleep well Tim, we'll be here when you wake up."

The words wash over Tim, like a wave, coating him in warmth and love. He feels acceptance, something he's strived for all his life, as if he's finally found the place where he belongs. But the feeling fades like the tide as his mind loses hold of the words and their significance and he's lost again to unconsciousness. Bruce won't say those words again, but that doesn't make them any less true.


	5. Red Hood Gets Teased by His Brothers

Hood hated when he had to fight alongside Bats. Aside from the fact that it massively brought down his street cred; sometimes working with them could be painful. It's sickening how easy it is to fall back into their ranks, to sync up with his so called brothers having endured and embraced the same hellish training. He worked at Bruce side without thought, holding point for the Bat like he never left. Yes, those moment hurt but there's more than one way to get hurt.

"Goddamit!" He cursed, jerking back his injured leg while the Replacement groaned in annoyance but pulled back his equipment regardless. "Are you trying to get me killed? Again?" He barked, watching as the kid continued to gaze at him with irritation and boredom. See? Brat used to shake in his boots at the sight of Jay and now he's  _bored_  by him.

"Your leg needs stitches and since you refuse to let us take you back to base, I have to do it here in front of all your friends." Robin deadpanned as he leaned forward, adding more antiseptic before continuing to stitch together the large gash in Jason's leg. Jay grit his teeth and growled but he won't give the brat the satisfaction of acknowledging his pain. He hated this, but it's better than letting it get infected and dying. He would know.

The Scarecrow and Hatter had teamed up once more for another mad cap scheme to poison the city by infecting children's toys and if there's one thing he hated more than family reunions, it's dead kids. Bats was over talking to Gordon, presumably trying to prevent him from arresting Jay for his many, many criminal exploits. Doesn't matter, as soon as the kid finishing sewing him the Red Hood was going to be long gone.

"Could be worse Little Wing," Nightwing said, popping out from around the pile of beaten and handcuffed henchmen. "At least your legs have better protection with the armor, that wound could have killed you in your last costume." He teased with a shit-eating grin. After a heartbeat, the Replacement ducked his head but Jason could hear the quiet chuckles coming from him. What the hell, his last costume?

Oh…  _Oh_

He meant his old Robin get-up. Yellow cape. Pixie boots. Scaly underwear.

"You shut your mouth Wingding; don't forget you wore that fashion travesty yourself. Hell, you invented that shit costume. It's your fault I had to wear a hand-me-down uniform that looked straight out of the funny pages!" He griped probably a bit too loud because he becomes aware of the sudden silence around them as he's gathered other people's attention. But Dick doesn't appear fazed as he sauntered over to them and laid a gentle arm around his shoulder.

"Oh but you really brought that costume to life, little brother. I mean you were much bigger than I was at that age, with such beautiful, muscular thighs. You really made the green underwear work for you." One finger striped hand landed on Robin's head. "Our poor baby bird just couldn't compete with the legacy of your magnificent legs, Dad had to give him proper pants, isn't that right Robbie?"

"Absolutely, my legs are too skinny to pull it off, had to give the short pants back to Aquaman." At this point, Jason was all but blowing steam from his ears out of both rage and embarrassment. Dick was grinning like the cat that ate the canary and Tim was quickly finishing tying off the stitches with a quiet, but visible smile on his face. Off to the side, he heard the henchmen whispering to each other. Clearly questioning the liberal use of danger words like  _brother, dad,_  and  _underwear_. He's sure the Bat will understand when he breaks his promise to not murder family members.

He lunched out from his perch, Dick giggling as he ran away while Tim had ducked just before Jay leapt having already cut the string and started sprinting in the opposite direction. Deciding that his older brother was the more prominent threat, Jason raced after Wing who squeaked when he noticed how fast Jay is approaching.

"Come on Hood!" He huffed while he dodged a punch, "I was just trying to distract you from the pain. I bet you didn't even feel Rob putting in those last couple of stitches, did you?" And dammit he managed to look sincere even while he's grinning like an asshole. "You really shouldn't run on that leg, besides B hates it when we fight!"

Gordon looked over as the two young men continued arguing and dancing around each other while Robin went high and appeared to be watching the show from above. The Dark Knight seemed unconcerned by the ruckus his two (three?) sons were causing behind him, as if he's become used to his sort of wild behavior. Jim thinks he was beginning to understand what the man saw in the Red Hood, why he's working so hard to protect him.

"Do you, ah, need to take care of that?" Gordon asked quietly as he watched Nightwing dodge a series of quick, deadly looking jabs easily while he continued bantering. Batman gave him a long suffering look that all father's wear at some point.

"They'll be dealt with later when scrapbooks showing the three boys in some questionable costumes and embarrassing positions are left out for them." The man answered, "it's good for character."


	6. Tim, Bart and Kon Play Charades

"If you have something to say, you might as well say it," Robin said as he continued typing away at the computer, seemingly unconcerned that Superboy and Impulse were angrily hovering, literally in Conner's case, behind him. "It's not like the Team and Nightwing haven't already given me their opinion on the matter."

"The Matter!?" Conner sputtered indignantly, turning as red as his costume with rage. He couldn't believe this kid! He was so unbelievably angry that he couldn't formulate any words beyond that. Beside him, Bart was nearly vibrating with indignation that it's amazing he hadn't started phasing into the floor. He grabbed the back of Tim's chair and spun it around so the Boy Wonder was facing them, looking at Tim's annoyed face, covered in bruises and burn marks with one arm in a sling only served to further anger Conner. If Cassie hadn't gotten there in time, they'd be yelling at a grave and not a criminally underwhelmed idiot.

"You," Conner hissed, unable to get any further because his chest felt constricted by the thought of how close it had been. He didn't have many friends and he almost lost one of the best ones he had. Any words he wanted, needed, to say felt unreasonably heavy because he knows he almost didn't get the chance to say them at all. "You!"

"Me?" Tim asks raising an eyebrow, the other had been almost completely burned off. Conner takes a step back to prevent himself from smacking Tim into the 34th century. So frustrated, he begins to flail his hands about, mimicking the fire which had almost stolen their leader from them. Tim made a face.

"Jazz hands? Are we doing a musical number?" Conner smacked his head and pointed roughly at Tim. Tim put his fingertips together and brought them up to his lips, like he always does when he's trying to work out some puzzle.

"You want  _me_  to do jazz hands?" Next to him, Bart began miming too, making weird hand motions that Conner couldn't even begin to decipher. Apparently, neither could Tim. "Wait, is that a shark? Are there sharks around? Are we watching  _Jaws_?" Getting more annoyed by the second, Conner made exploding sounds and signaled how Tim had almost choked to death on the smoke because he had been an utter and complete idiot. Bart was still off doing his own thing.

"Shark explosion? You want to go swimming? Is this some elaborate allegory for sea life preservation? What are you trying to say?" Finally, so angry he's about to burst, Conner stepped forward and grabbed Tim as gently as he could by the shoulders.

"You! You almost died dude! You almost blew into a bajillion smithereens and where would the Team be without our dumb leader? Where would Bart and I be without our best bro? You were sad and angry when your mom died, did it ever occur to you that we would be just as upset if that happened to you?" Conner gave Tim a shake. "When are you going to realize that you are important to us you numbskull!?"

Tim blinked up at him, looking suddenly very small and upset. It maybe was a bit of a low blow bringing up his dead mom but if it got him to listen then fine. Maybe then he'll be a little more careful with his life if he realizes how much other people treasure it.

"I'm sorry Conner, Bart, I uh I didn't think of it that way. I'll try to remember that." Tim responded quietly and Conner huffed with pleasure as he let go. He thinks this is the first time he's ever got one over on Tim. "But uh, why didn't you just say that in the first place? What was with all the hand waving and whatever Bart's doing?"

"Well I was so mad at you I couldn't get the words, and Bart! What the heck are you doing man?" Bart stopped flapped his arms like a chicken and blinked at them.

"Oh I thought we were doing charades to cheer Tim up."


	7. Jason Borrows Dick's Uniform

Twelve year old Jason Todd, newly minted Wayne son, knew this was a bad idea but he just couldn't stop himself. He knew that this would get him in trouble one day in the not too distant future but he couldn't bring himself to care. He could feel the desire coursing through his veins, compelling him into Bruce's study, past the grandfather clock and down into the Batcave for the prize he sought. It kept him up at night, this fantasy that he let himself live out occasionally, and he could never rest properly until he did it just for a little bit.

Ok yeah so he had a bit on an addiction, it's not like it was all that unusual in this place. And besides, what Bruce didn't know couldn't hurt him and it's not like Dick was using the old Robin suit anymore. And it was practically a crime to let that iconic costume get dusty behind glass.

He grinned in awe as he did every time his eyes fell upon the case containing that brightly colored monstrosity Dick had created once upon a time. He used to think the costume was garish, but now it appeared to be the most beautiful thing Jason had ever seen. And, for the next few hours, while the Batman was out and Alfred was doing whatever it is Alfred did, it was all his. He carefully opened the case, making sure not to leave any fingerprints for Mr. Paranoid to find, and reverently slipped on that well-worn costume. If he closed his eyes, he could almost pretend Batman was in the corner waiting for him to finish so they could hit the streets together. Almost.

Dick had retired this old thing when he was a teen so the lightweight Kevlar was more than a bit too big on him. He'd been forced to sneakily procure one of Bruce's belts to keep the green underwear from falling down. The cape reached down to his knees and the tunic hung awkwardly on his skinny shoulders. But despite how patchwork and pathetic he must look in Dick's hand-me-downs, Jason never felt more alive than when he slipped on that domino mask. He struck what he hoped was a very heroic pose in the middle of the cave with the sounds of screeching bats serving as the perfect soundtrack to his nighttime adventure.

"Look out Gotham Underworld because Robin the Boy Wonder is here to kick your tails!" He said enthusiastically, throwing a right hook into an imaginary opponent. "Ha! Take that Joker! Looks like the jokes on you this time!" He executed a very sloppy roundhouse kick, relishing the sound of the bright yellow cape whipping through the air. "That's right, you don't want to tangle with me Poison Ivy!"

He wasn't a crazily talented acrobat like Dick so he didn't try out any of Robin's signature flips and stunts, as much as he wanted to. His one attempt a few weeks ago had left him with a rather nasty scrape along his arm that had made Bruce suspicious. Jason had been forced to halt his nightly excursions until the World's Greatest Detective took his eyes off his adopted son. It was the longest two weeks in Jason Todd's boring, ordinary life. Luckily though, he wasn't Jason Todd right now, he was Robin, butt-kicking sidekick of the Batman. He grabbed at a pretend grappling hook from his, sadly empty, utility belt. He stuck his tongue out as he aimed his imaginary hook.

"Holy Hijinks Batman! Two Face is trying to rob the Second National Bank! This looks like a job for the Dynamic Duo!" He announced to no one as he whooshed around the cave like he was sailing high over Gotham. He allowed himself to imagine, just for a few seconds, how the cool wind would whip through his hair and the not unpleasant tug of his stomach as gravity tried to bring him down. But nothing could bring down Robin; he was invincible, untouchable, unstop- was that Batman?

Jason's finely tuned sense of danger, honed from his experiences on the streets of Gotham, began sending out loud warning bells as he heard the low rumble of the Batmobile returning to the cave. He glanced at the clock and growled; it was only 12:30, what was Batman doing back so early? He only had about twenty seconds before the car would be back in the cave proper. Not nearly enough time to put the costume back to Bruce's exacting standards. That left Jason with one option, high tail it out of there and hope Bruce would be merciful when he decided to peel off his skin layer by layer.

He quickly scampered on top of the glass case before leaping up into the upper echelons of the cave network. He cursed softly and waved his hand to scatter the few bats hanging around him just as the car parked into place. Batman leapt out of the car and hurried towards the stairs, completely bypassing the empty case. Jason's heart lifted, maybe Bruce wouldn't notice. He could put the costume away and sneak back upstairs and everyone would be happy in the end. His hopes were dashed when Bruce stopped mid-step and turned to glare at the case mysteriously missing its contents. Jason shrank against a stalagmite as Bruce angrily scoffed and crossed his arms.

"Jason Peter Todd, I know you're still down here. Get out where I can see you this instant or I promise you will never step foot into this cave again." Jason sucked in his breath. No more cave time? No more helping out Bruce on the radio? No more helping him wash the Batmobile? No more watching his guardian and sorta kinda dad go off to fight crime, giving Jason a light but affectionate hair ruffle before he leaves? Anything, even Batman's wrath, was better than sitting up in the Manor at night when all the action was happening down here. He gently lowered himself back down to the ground watching with trepidation as Bruce's already angry scowl deepened. Oh boy was he in for it now.

"What the hell do you think you're doing with that?" Bruce, or rather Batman, growled stepping closer and giving the sleeve of the Robin costume a tug, as if Jason wouldn't know what he was talking about. "That is a not a plaything Jason, that is a serious costume, a soldier's uniform. You are disgracing everything Dick and I do by prancing around in his suit like it's a game. Just because Dick and I are in a bit of quarrel right now does not give you permission to mock his years of service." Jason's mouth fell open because that wasn't it at all. He didn't want to insult Robin, he wanted to  _be_  Robin. During these increasingly more frequent trips into the cave, Jason actually felt important for the first time in his life, like he could be more than a hopeless street rat.

"Bruce that's not, I would never-" He was silenced by a gloved hand.

"I don't want to hear it. Now you take that costume off and it back where you found it. I'll get a lock installed on that case first thing in the morning. And then you march back upstairs and prepare yourself for a whole heap of extra chores tomorrow and for the next few weeks." Jason's mouth curled into a sneer as his hands formed into fists. Bruce was taking it the wrong way, he loved Robin and he would never try to disrespect it! And he wasn't even letting Jason defend himself just like every other adult in his life. He was sounding a bit too much like Willis Todd for Jason to be happy with.

"No lay off Bruce, you don't understand and you're not even trying to understand." He ground out, standing toe to toe with the Dark Knight and glaring up at him through the domino mask. "I didn't do anything wrong! I'm just trying it on. It's not my fault Dick decided he could do better and left all his junk here. At least I care enough about Robin not to let the name fade away behind glass." Jason spat out watching Bruce's form tense from the biting remark which, in hindsight, probably wasn't his smartest move.

"How dare you-" Bruce began with voice like crushed glass and Jason winced at the sound. Well if he'd gone this far, he might as well go all the way.

"Yeah how dare I break into your and Dick's perfect superhero life which, in case you missed the memo B, isn't all that happy. How dare this stupid piece of street dirty up the perfect image of Robin by putting on his costume? Is that what you were going to say boss? Cause you can skip the lecture, it came across loud and clear. I don't know why you're even pretending, why you let me stay in your fancy house when we both know this is just a temporary gig. We both know I'm not good enough to be your sidekick, to be your son." Words that had been burning on the back of his tongue for weeks now were suddenly spewing forth with undue urgency, putting forth all his anger and insecurities and fears into the open where they could be mocked and judged.

Jason panted a little from the emotional effort that had gone into that tirade, dropping his eyes to the floor so he didn't have to look at Bruce and see his disappointment. His face burned with embarrassment and his shoulders hitched up near his ears. Great, now he was sad, little Oliver Twist who was down on his luck didn't get enough love. It might be cute in storybooks but the poor boy shtick just didn't fly in the real world.

Best case, Bruce let him go and they all forgot this humiliating tantrum. Worst case, Bruce realized the truth and kept Jason long enough to strip the costume off before throwing him back out on the streets where he belonged. The minutes ticked by with long agonizing slowness and it was only his crumbling sense of pride that kept him from running deep into the cave where Bruce couldn't condemn him. One of Batman's heavy hands landed on his shoulder and he winced, preparing himself for the beating, either physical or verbal, that he deserved for his smart mouth.

"Jason, do you want to be Robin?" Bruce asked quietly, suddenly kneeling into Jason's line of sight and startling him. Because, really? Was the Batman only _just_  realizing that rather obvious fact? And, in fact, he was. Bruce Wayne pulled off his cowl to better look at the costumed boy and connect the dots that had been right in front of him all this time. Jason's sad, shy glances at the case whenever Bruce went out on patrol, his antagonistic behavior if the Boy Wonder was brought up in conversation, the way Jason so coldly reacted whenever Dick was so much as mentioned. Jason had been jealously hoarding onto the cast off identity of Robin in an attempt to attain a sense of worth and belonging. Bruce squeezed Jay's shoulder watching as the boy curled in on himself. Bruce had never felt more ashamed. He thought he knew everything about little boys after raising Dick, now he was realizing that he didn't know anything at all.

"Jay, son, it's okay. I'm sorry for not noticing sooner. I'm not mad, you're just fine kiddo." Jay warily glanced up at him and damn him if his eyes weren't wet behind that mask. He hesitantly pulled the boy into a gentle hug, worried he might trigger Jason's apprehension of physical contact but the boy melted in his embrace. He heard Jason sigh sadly into his shoulder while he continued to stroke his wavy black hair. "Jason I'm sorry if you feel that you need a costume to be loved by me because that's not true at all. Dick forced my hand by declaring that he would fight crime with or without me. He created the role and wore it honorably until the day that he grew out of it." He pulled back and gently peeled the mask off of Jason who was sniffling and valiantly trying to pretend that he wasn't on the verge of tears.

"I just want you to be happy Jason, that's the reason I took you in. You were alone and scared and I liked your spunk," Bruce grinned trying get some sort of reaction out of his normally cheeky child. "Those traits are part of who you are Jason, not Robin and certainly not Dick. I love you for everything you are and everything you're not and that will always be true." They lapsed into silence after that, allowing for his words to sink in. With a grunt, he straightened back up.

"Now, why don't you put the costume back and head up to bed, it's too late for you to be up. I need to talk to Alfred real quick and then I'll be heading back out." Jason nodded, and stuck out his chin as he furiously wiped at his eyes as if that would erase any trace of his weakness. Bruce couldn't help but snort affectionately, it's amazing sometimes how much Jason resembled him. The young boy ducked into the changing curtain only to pop his head out a second later.

"Um Bruce, I was wondering, about those chores. Is that still happening or..." Bruce carefully schooled his features, taking a precious few seconds to decide on something that would change his son's future. But one look at Jason's still uncertain eyes decided for him.

"Yes, chores are good for the soul Jay," the boy moaned. "We'll start with basic defensive moves, working your way up to more sophisticated attacks and how to run the equipment. If you're really interested and giving me all you've got, Gotham can have another Robin by the summer." The look in Jason's eyes was priceless and the grin that bloomed on his face was nothing short of magical.

"Are you serious boss? oh man this is amazing! Thank you B, I won't let you down, I promise! I'll be as good as Dick, better even!" He gave a little jump into the air. "This is the best day ever!" He announced before ducking back into the changing room. Bruce allowed himself another moment to wonder if this was the right decision. Would Dick accept that Bruce gave away a name that really wasn't his to give? Would Jason be able to handle the stresses of the job after all the trauma he's already seen? Was he sending the boy to his death?

But now wasn't the time for such ruminations. the decision was made and there was no way in hell that Jason was going to let him back out now. He just had to train the boy the best he could and hope it was enough to keep him safe. While Jay talked animatedly to himself as he changed, Bruce ascended the stairs to find Alfred standing in the study with two cups of tea ready and the smallest of knowing smiles tugging at his lips.

"I'm guessing the emergency you brought me home early for has resolved itself? And it had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that Jason was sneaking into Dick's costume behind my back?" Alfred chuffed as he walked forward and offered Bruce the cup.

"I have no idea what you're talking about sir. All I know is that Master Jason has been feeling a bit unwelcome as of late and now I expect he'll be back to his usual, charming self." He said warmly with a knowing twinkle in his eyes. Bruce inwardly resigned himself to the fact that he would always be manipulated by the butler. "Now you may return to patrol Sir, I have a calming cup of chamomile for our enthusiastic new Robin before he retires for the evening." Alfred then opened the entrance to the cave and started down. He paused and addressed Bruce with another small smile.

"And if I might make a suggestion Sir, it would be prudent for you to observe some of the cave security footage from the last few weeks, specifically during the hours you are away." He smiled in a way that only a grandfather could. "I believe you will find what you see most enlightening, and, dare I say, adorable." Bruce sipped his tea to hide his own smirk.

"Right, I'll be sure to do that once I come back. I'm sure that footage will come in handy should our new little Robin get a little too big for his britches."


	8. Young Dick Challenges Batman

The still small, relatively new Justice League finally had a little place to call their own. Nicknamed the Watchtower, it was currently only half built but the seven heroes of Earth could see beyond that. Someday, this tower would be complete and their team would be legendary. But for now they were huddled in a cold corner of the half-finished Watchtower watching with obvious curiosity the strangest pair in their little club.

Of course once the Justice League officially became a team, the whole secret identity thing became a bit of a hindrance. How could they stand to trust each other to watch their backs if they didn't know their names? With a little grumbling on the parts of a few people, ok really only one person, masks were stripped and lives were laid bare. There were a few surprises there, who, after all, would suspect that the mighty Superman was really a mild mannered farm boy? But by far the biggest surprise was learning that their dear Dark Knight was none other than billionaire Bruce Wayne. Even more shocking to some was the fact that he was the adoptive father of an energetic eight year old.

So that was where they were now, watching as the scourge of Gotham's underworld debated back and forth with a boy a third his size yet still holding his own against the Caped Crusader. Apparently the Butler was on a very rare vacation leaving the vigilante with no choice but to bring his son with him to their weekly meeting. Green Lantern shook his head as little Dick Grayson bounced back and forth on his feet.

"I still can't believe Bats is a Dad, I mean how does that even work? The guy reads his kid  _Goodnight Moon_  before going out and punching out people's teeth?" Superman shot the pilot an annoyed look.

"C'mon, give Bruce a little more credit. I think it's great that he took Dick in and he's doing a pretty good job. Besides, it's good for him to have some happiness in his life. They're just like any other family." Hawkgirl snorted.

"You mean aside from living in a big, fancy mansion and going out and fighting criminals at night dressed as a  _bat_." She drawled sarcastically only to be hushed by the Flash.

"Guys shhh, I'm trying to listen." Diana pursed her lips as she glanced worriedly at the father and son pair.

"I don't know, we probably shouldn't be listening to this. This could be a private conversation after all." The Flash waved her off as he munched on some popcorn. Across the room, Dick Grayson stuck out his lower lip and gave his own version of the batglare. In full costume, Bruce stared back down at him with the unrelenting stubbornness of Batman. Neither of them appeared fazed or backed down in the slightest.

"60," Dick said putting his hands on his hips and balancing on the tips of his toes to gain a few inches. Batman scoffed at the suggestion.

"Not on your life, 10." Dick whined loudly at that and tapped his foot in agitation.

"I can't do anything with 10."

"I believe that was the point," his adoptive father replied with the barest hint of a smirk appearing on his normally stoic face.

"Oh my god," Green Lantern said stealing some of Flash's popcorn. "Is the kid seriously pumping his dad for money." Barry, too caught up in the domestic scene, didn't notice that his popcorn was being pilfered. "This is too good."

"Okay fine, I can make due with 50." Dick replied finally after a minute of staring into the white lenses of his guardian's mask. Batman tilted his head to the side at his precocious boy.

"And what would you do with 50 if I allowed it?" He asked while Dick huffed.

"I can do plenty with 50 thank you very much. I grew up the circus remember? I know how to handle myself." Batman hummed thoughtfully watching carefully as his enthusiastic kid just barely managed to keep himself still for the sake of his argument.

"Alright then, 20. We'll start with that and see how you do." Dick stepped forward to stand toe to toe with the Dark Knight, all four feet of him.

"45 and I promise I'll go to bed without making a fuss and not wake you before 6 am tomorrow." Batman raised an eyebrow as he folded his arms across his chest.

"25 and count yourself lucky I didn't leave you on Earth with a babysitter." Dick grinned wickedly, the effect only somewhat dimmed by the gap in his bottom teeth from when he lost a baby tooth a few weeks before.

"40 and I won't tell Alfred you gave me cold pizza for breakfast this morning," he lowered his lids, "or the fact that you didn't come home until dawn because you were too busy chasing after Catwoman." Batman immediately straightened as the threat was delivered and pretty soon the entire Justice League was leaning forward in stunned awe of the verbal back and forth. Wonder Woman grabbed some popcorn as well followed soon after by Superman and Martian Manhunter leaving none left for the speedster but he didn't seem to notice. They were all now enamored with the family drama. After a tense few moments, Batman smirked for real this time.

"40 it is on the condition that you never mention that again. In addition, with that level of skill, I expect you go out for your school's debate team next fall." His serious face suddenly gone in the face of victory, Dick let out a whoop of joy and even did a little backflip on the floor.

"Thanks Bruce you're the best!" He proclaimed, jumping up to wrap his tiny arms around his adoptive father's neck for a brief moment before dropping down into a tumble and sprinting off into the darkness leaving nothing but his laughter behind.

The Justice League sat with wide, confused expressions. Green Lantern reached for the popcorn at the same time as the Flash only to discover it had all been eaten. While the Flash moaned in despair, Lantern shook his head.

"I don't get it, I didn't see any exchange of money but also we're in deep space? What's the little brat going to buy? Space rocks?" Finally turning towards them, the League shrunk in on themselves in shame expecting to face his wrath for their rather blatant eavesdropping. Instead, they got a wry smile.

"Who said anything about money?" A sudden giggle echoed through the space station and they all looked up to find the son of the Bat swinging freely from one of the rafters with a look of pure elation of his face. He then jumped upwards, letting go of the bar to grasp for another rafter just above it. Both Superman and Wonder Woman floated up a few feet in preparation to catch the boy who was swinging around as if gravity were merely optional. Batman stopped them with a wave of his hand.

"Be careful around the wiring Dick and so help me if you go above 40 feet I'm going to tie you down with weights. You have an hour before bedtime so try to keep the noise to a minimum." The only answer he received for his warnings were the sounds of his child's merriment as he cartwheeled over to the other side of the metal beam. Below him, the remaining adults were dazed.

"Circus kid huh?" Flash said with a small but genuine smile, thinking of his own happy nephew in Central as Dick continued to play in the upper areas of the station. The remaining Leaguers separated and went back to their work, occasionally looking up and finding themselves enjoying the sounds of pitter pattering of feet on metal and hushed laughter. Green Lantern clicked his tongue as he and Superman began to attach metal sheeting to the walls.

"Jeez and to think for a moment there I almost believed that the two of them were normal people. I guess anyone who has Batman for a dad has got to be strange." Superman hummed as he glanced over Lantern's shoulder to watch Dick drop in and hang upside in front of Batman's computer and grin as his nose was flicked for his efforts. But Clark didn't need super vision to see the smile on Bruce's face or how quietly happy he was to have his boy up here with him. He made a mental note to tell him to bring Dick up more often; the kid did wonders to the team's morale.

"I don't know, I don't think there's anything more normal than a father and son playing with each other."


	9. Captain Marvel Meets the Flash

Billy generally loved being Captain Marvel. He got all these cool magical powers and could go out and do some real, proper good for the people in his city. Secretly there was also something nice about being someone else for a little bit, no one gave a damn about homeless Billy Batson but Cap was big and friendly and loved by everyone. This part wasn’t exactly his favorite though.

He sighed heavily through his nose and tried to pay attention to what was going on across the street. There’d been a spike in child trafficking in Fawcett City, an international ring had recently set up shop a town over but had been making trips to Fawcett to grab kids. Normally Billy would go in and knock some skulls and be done with it, but this group was bigger than the usual creeps he fought. If he wanted to bring down the whole shebang, he needed to do some surveillance before he jumped in. 

But it was  _so boring_.  

He tapped his fingers on the cold stone roof he was sitting on. He’s Cap right now, with a dark cloak being thrown over his costume to keep from standing out. Honestly, it’d probably be easier to keep an eye out as Billy but it’s below freezing tonight in Fawcett and Billy doesn’t have Cap’s immunity to the elements.  

“Mind if I join you?” Billy whirled around in surprise at the voice coming just behind him. He was greeted by none other than the Scarlet Speedster, the Flash, holding out two steaming cups. “Thought if I was going to crash your stakeout I might as well come prepared.” 

“You’re the Flash!” Billy exclaimed with excitement, barely remembering to keep his voice down. Central City wasn’t all that far from Fawcett so Billy often heard stories of the Flash. He was a simple, honest hero that Billy had always liked. He was friendlier than Batman and less terrifyingly powerful than Superman and he was standing in front of Billy  _right now_. “I am a huge fan, have been for years, that fight last week where you pitted Mirror Master against Captain Cold was so awesome!” 

“Thanks man, I hear you do good work too and I love how open you are with your advocacy. That’s the mark of a true hero, I’ve actually been wanting to meet up for a while though I wish it were under better circumstances.” Flash said, handing Captain his cup. “You didn’t strike me as a coffee person so I got you hot chocolate, hope that’s alright.” 

“It’s perfect, I’ll pay you back,” Captain said, even though he had $9.67 to his name. He turned his gaze back to the warehouse. “You’re here about the trafficking?” 

“Yeah,” Flash sighed, settling next to him. “They’ve been making their way through the entire Midwest. I’ve taken down their operation in Central but the big bosses managed to get away. I figured they’d be here as they set up shop, so I thought I’d check it out.”

“Nah, I appreciate it, I’m not real good at this stakeout stuff,” Cap admittedly sheepishly as he took a sip from his cocoa. Mmm it was the good stuff, he hadn’t had this high quality of cocoa in uh probably never. 

“Eh it takes some getting used to, punching bad guys is easy but this is really where heroes can make a difference,” Flash explained and Billy felt himself relaxing at the gentle but authoritative tone. If all adults were like this, the world wouldn’t be half as bad. “Still, it’s impressive to see you out here, shows you have what it takes.”

“For what?” Cap asked innocently, taking a sip of his drink.

“Well, you didn’t hear it from me but League membership recommendations are coming up and a certain magical hero is on the shortlist.” Flash teased, Billy spit out his cocoa.

“What, really!? But I’m just a k-” He coughed, cutting himself off before he accidentally revealed his age. “a-a clown, you know? I’m not nearly experienced or smart enough to be in the Justice League. I mean, that’s for the real heroes like Batman and Superman and well, you!” 

“Hey,” Flash soothed, putting a hand on his shoulder and Billy would be geeking out if his brain wasn’t mush. “You may be new but you’re powerful and the League is just as much about teaching up and coming heroes as it is fighting bad guys. With us, you’ll have credentials, resources, training, anything you’ll need to do your job. You’re right, we only take the best but we’ve seen you out there and you got twice as much heart as most folks.” 

“I-I don’t know,” Captain says, trying to tamp down the paranoid parts of Billy. Being in the League means being away from Fawcett, his home and responsibility. It also puts his secret on the line and the heroes might like Cap but no one has time for a street kid like Billy. 

“It’s not set in stone yet,” Flash added. “If you really don’t feel ready, I can tell the big boys to pass on you this go around. But the fact that you’re taking this opportunity so seriously tells me you understand the risks and responsibility.”

“I’ll uh, I’ll think about it,” Captain says quietly before, thankfully, he sees some movement within the warehouse. “Hey I think those bosses of your have shown up.”

“Alright, you mind if I jump in?” Flash asked draining his coffee. “I’ve been itching to get these guys for weeks now, it’ll help me sleep better tonight if I punch a few pedophiles out.”

“O-oh you don’t need my permission, sir!” Captain stuttered. 

“Course I do, this is your turf. Team-ups are fun but I can’t just waltz in and act like I own the place,” oh man, the Flash is  _totally_  his favorite now, sorry Superman. “Just think about what I said, I’ll stop by again before the nominations are out to see if you still feel unsure.”

“You’ll come back?” Cap asked with genuine surprise. No one came to Fawcett on their own, you either were born here or got stuck here. 

“Yeah, we’re friends now, I’ll swing by when I have five free minutes and we’ll have another cup,” he said gesturing with his now empty cup which he then disposed of in a garbage can on the first floor. 

“Yeah! Yeah I’d like that a lot,” Billy grinned, friends were a luxury he really couldn’t afford with his heroing but maybe having a few adult friends in the business would help him find his footing with these new powers. “Now let’s go kick some bad guy butt.”


	11. Wayne Girls AU: Daddy's Little Vigilantes

“I hate patrols in the rain,” Nightwing muttered under her breath, not taking her eyes off the warehouse they was watching to wring out her soaking wet braid for the 1000th time that evening. It didn’t do anything but it made her feel better.

“It’s alright; you can stay home next time. I know you have a busy work schedule.” Batman stated dryly next to her, seemingly unbothered by the torrential rain that had been pounding on them for the last hour. She wondered if his indifference to the elements was a man thing or a Bruce thing. When she considers all of the whiny men she’s met in her life, she decides it’s probably the latter.

“I’m good B, where’d you be without me?” She replied sweetly.

“We’d all probably be enjoying our patrol a heck of a lot more without your constant chatter,” Robin murmured into the comms. Rachel raised an eyebrow at the uncommonly rude banter from her younger sister. She’d expected it from Janis back in the day, but not from Tabitha.

“You okay over there little birdie?” Nightwing asked, bending to the side in a futile effort to catch glimpse of the Girl Wonder and her unofficial little sister. To avoid missing anyone entering or leaving, they were covering opposite ends of the warehouse so Tab was two buildings over with the warehouse between them. “Need to talk?”

“We’re staking out the Ghost Dragons’ hideout, this isn’t the time for idle conversation.” Batman growled out, but it was his run of the mill growl so both girls proceeded to ignore it as always.

“Come on sweetie, you know you can talk to me. I’m not like the regular vigilantes, I’m a cool vigilante.” She said with a flirty wink even though Tabitha was on the other end of the block.

“Tell me, is your boob job as bad as Mrs. George’s or are your tits actually that solid?” Robin teased back.

“Girls,” Batman warned but there’s a faint hint of a defeated sigh in his voice.

“I am so offended; these babies are 100% Nightwing. You’ve seen them in their full glory; a detective like you would be able to spot a fake instantly.” Rachel replies with mock offense, bringing her gloves up to touch her heavily armored chest. “What’s got you all crabby tonight; you’re the one who planned this stake-out.” On the other end, Tabitha let out a long, drawn out sign.

“I believe the gang has returned, Robin, go check it out.” Batman ordered, Rach thought he was trying to divert them until she saw the van pull up. Luckily he taught them to multitask.

“I fell asleep in 9th grade Chem today, no real loss, but my bogus teacher sent me to the principal’s office and I got the whole  _‘I’m so disappointed in you but also concerned, tell me does your father touch you in any uncomfortable places?’_  speech which, you know, isn’t weird at all.” Tabitha whispers as she ran silently across her roof to hover just over the garage where the van was pulling in. “And then Ives was giving me a hard time cause he caught me staring at the pretty Russian exchange student, I’ve told you about her.”

“Yeah you have but I’ve yet to hear about you asking her out.” Nightwing responded lightly, watching as the Ghost Dragons began unloading a cache of weapons from the van. Bingo. Another long sigh.

“Yeah I know, I mean Arianna is beautiful but I don’t know if I’m ready for a relationship or for the fallout of being labeled a lesbian for the rest of my high school career when I’m still unsure y'know?” Nightwing catches the barest hint of the yellow cape as Robin shifts presumably to grab at her weapons before once again fading into the darkness.

“I get that but there’s nothing wrong with testing the waters while you’re still deciding.” Rachel supplied helpfully as she readied her own gear despite the fact that Robin is closer and will have it cleaned up by the time her and Batman get there.

“I’m not sure I’m going to take the advice of someone who slept her way through the entire Titans roster.” Tabitha deadpanned. Through the comms, she can hear Bruce let out an annoyed sigh because he  _so_  did not sign up for this when he decided to take on a partner. Well, he should have trained boys instead. “Okay, they’re in position. I’ve taken pictures and forwarded them to the GCPD as evidence and copied them to the Cave. I’m going in.” She announced before she dropped down from the roof like a vengeful angel, managing to look intimidating with the cape despite the heavy rain soaking her to the bone and her hair heavy and languid in her hairclip.

The Ghost Dragons turn at the sound, but don’t notice her immediately due to the dark giving her just enough of an advantage to begin taking down the gang members before they were even aware they were compromised. Two were down before the Dragons got their weapons up but luckily Tabitha, or well Robin, was highly trained by some of the best martial artists and they didn’t prove to be much of a problem. A few more ran out from the warehouse and she rotated her shoulders to loosen them as she went back to her previous conversation.

“Watch my back for snipers, there’s usually a few around with the Dragons.”

“Aye, aye and just so you know any sexual encounters I had were consensual and I did not go through the  _entire_  roster. Donna and I just made out a few times, jeez Rob don’t exaggerate.” Tabitha’s mouth curled up in a small smirk as she continued pounding away at the rapidly dwindling number of gang members.

“So yeah, on top of school and my annoying friends, I also got my period today and let me tell you the rain is not helping things at all so I can assure you I am being as pleasant as I can possibly be under the circumstances.” She responds in-between wet punches and ducking sloppy attacks. “When I finish these losers off, I am going back to the Cave and burying myself in those nice fuzzy blankets and watching some terrible B sci-fi movie because today sucks and I deserve to be happy.” Nightwing nodded sagely at Robin’s complaints but her eyes sharpened as a trapdoor opened on the roof of the warehouse and a few Dragons crawled out, clearly hoping to take advantage of Tabitha’s distraction. Well not while her big sister had anything to say about it.

Using the grapple would draw too much attention and it was dangerous anyway with the heavy rain. Oh well, she needed to stretch her legs anyway and the warehouse wasn’t that far away. Batman nodded at her as he quietly made his way down to the ground to assist Rob with the final dregs and the clean-up while Nightwing backed up the appropriate distance. Quickly calculating, she ran forward and dove through the air like the last of the Flying Graysons and rolled gracefully onto the warehouse’s roof. She disarmed one gunmen with a brutal kick to the gut with the other got one, then two, quick but powerful elbow jabs to the face. With the second one dazed, she was able to flip him onto his partner who was just recovering from her kick. She wiped her hands and gave a thumbs-up to Tabitha below who took a second to stop zip-tying their thugs to return the gesture.

“So blankets and bad movies? I’ll even let you borrow my heating pad for the cramps cause I love ya.”

“God bless you, I take back my comment about your boobs. They are perky and beautiful.” Nightwing laughed, she’d missed having a little sister.


	12. Diana and Billy Bond

_Stupid_ , Billy curses himself for the millionth time. If Batman were here, he’d call Billy out on his carelessness, his overconfidence and miscalculation of the situation. Even in his head, Bruce is all kinds of annoying. Doesn’t mean brain Batman isn’t right. Billy slouches in his chair and scowls at the infinitely patient smile on the social worker in front of him.

It happened every now and again, when he was too tired or too slow and the cops finally caught up with him. Being an orphan, he’s technically a ward of the state and should be in either an orphanage or foster care. But Billy couldn’t live in such a hopeless place and there was no way someone was ever going to adopt him so that’s when he hit the streets where he’s been doing just fine thank you very much. When he became Cap, he knew he couldn’t afford to stay with anyone in case they figured out his secret. 

If only  _some people_  would understand that.

“Don’t look at me that way, Billy, you know I’m only here to help,” Miss. Dunham, who’s managed Billy’s case since he was kicked out his last foster home 2 years ago. “I don’t know why you’re fighting this so hard, do you really want to go back to being alone and homeless when you can have a family?”

“I was fine where I was,” he mutters, sinking deeper into his chair and scratching at his pants. Bad enough he’s stuck here until he can sneak out but they took his comfy clothes and dressed him like a choir boy, red collared shirt and khaki pants. Maybe they’re hoping the fancy clothes will makes some nice couple look past his thick record and contrary personality. 

“I have to disagree,” she tuts in that smarmy know it all way that always grates on him. “Now can you at least try to behave? A woman,  _a very wealthy and prestigious woman_ , has expressed an interest in you and is coming to visit. If you just cooperate, you’ll never want for anything again.”

“Isn’t that what creeps say to girls before they stuff them in their van?” Billy rolls his eyes. Miss Dunham isn’t given time to respond when he phone pings. She stands up and straightens her skirt, pasting on a big fake smile before wrenching him to his feet.

“Your visitor is here, please give it some effort,” she says out of the corner of her mouth as the door opens. Billy’s jaw hits the floor as Miss Dunham steps forward to shake Wonder Woman’s hand. Only she isn’t really Wonder Woman right now, she’s in a smart burgundy pant suit with her hair held up with a clip looking like a lawyer or something instead of the unkillable badass he knows her as.

“Miss Prince, it is an honor to meet you. We are honored to have a woman of your standing interested in our little Billy,” she says, placing her hands on Billy’s shoulders but he’s too dumbfounded to shake her off. “Don’t let his record scare you away, he’s a real good boy who puts a lot of value in helping others. I think you’ll find you two have a lot in common.” Diana Prince AKA Wonder Woman, smiles down at Billy with a conspiratorial tilt to her lips.

“Oh I already know we value the same beliefs,” Billy’s eyes are still bugging out while Miss Dunham practically beams. 

“Wonderful! Here, why don’t I leave you two to get acquainted. I’ll be out in the hall if you need anything,” Miss Dunham says cheerily, leading Billy into a cozy little waiting area and pushing him gently into a plush armchair. She waves at them before ducking out the door. 

“Bruce wanted me to pass onto you that your capture was unnecessary and due to your lack of awareness about your surroundings,” Wonder Woman teases.

“Yeah, yeah, I know, I don’t have the Wisdom of Solomon all the time, ya know,” he retorts back despite feeling uncomfortably out of his depth. He’s worked very hard to keep his real life and his hero life separate and he’s not sure where he stands right now. Wonder Woman may be a friend of Captain Marvel’s but she doesn’t know much about Billy Batson. “Are you here to bust me out? Because I appreciate it but I really don’t need-”

“Why do you resent our help so much,” she asks sternly but not unkindly. “Despite numerous attempts to offer you support and aid, you refuse to allow any of us to ease your burdens in this part of your life.” 

“I uh,” Billy shifts uncomfortably. “I know and it’s great you guys care and all but it’s…” He rakes his hands through his hair. He’s never been able to put into words, either as Cap or Billy, the way he feels. It’s a mess of his pride at not accepting help from adults but also as a street kid to not use Cap’s power and resources for his own benefit. It’s not who he is as a person and he doesn’t want to be the kind of hero who is changed by his circumstances. 

“I do understand your desire for freedom and your perception of being a burden which is why I came to compromise,” she said gently, leaning forward. “I know Batman has offered you a spot in his family but Bruce has his own way of dealing with things and I doubt you want the attention that comes from associating with his public persona.” Billy winces, he really,  _really_ does appreciate Bruce’s offers to adopt him but there is no way Billy will allow himself to be paraded around like a stuffed pig in front of the media. “So that is why I am offering instead,” she continues.

“I am often busy with my work, both as a hero an an ambassador, you will have everything you need but you will not be fussed over. Obviously there will be no issues concerning your duties as Captain Marvel and I would ensure the adoption is not made public so no one could draw a possible link.” She leaned over and brushed his hand before pulling back. “You are so strong Billy Batson, in might and in heart. Bruce sees you as a child while I see you as a warrior who has overcome great adversity. I am not your mother nor will I ever be but I am always your friend.”

“Gee,” Billy said thickly. It was an incredible offer but what really touched him was the earnestness of her request. She didn’t see him as some rinky dink knock off hero; she sees him as a a teammate, as a friend. For a kid without two nickles to rub together, that kind of loyalty means an awful lot. Wonder Woman respectfully gives him a few minutes to gather himself but she never stops looking understanding. His situation was kind of weird all around but man he sure had some good friends.

“Thank you, that’s unbelievably kind and it really means a lot that you kinda get me,” Billy said. “But I still can’t take you up on it. It’s not always easy but I’m good where I am, I know I do good work on the street level, stuff I can’t do as Cap. It’s not perfect but it’s my life,  _Billy’s life_ , and I want it to stay that way.”

“I expected as much,” she nodded, “but I wanted to extend the offer none the less. My home is always open to you should you need it.” She leaned back in her chair and smiled sharply again. “That does however leave the matter of your detainment here. I presume you’ll be able to find your way out if I give you a few minutes distraction?”

“That’s more than enough time,” he grinned back, loosening his constrictive collared shirt. Man, he really did have the best friends.


	13. Batkids Arguing and Making up

“Out of the way, Pretender!” Red Hood shouted, just barely avoiding colliding into Red Robin as he went after a collection of goons. The younger boy snarled, ducking out of the way and turning to another couple of bad guys.

“Take care of your own bad guys, Hood!” He responded, getting two criminals with a well aimed strike of his bo. “Stop stealing mine!”

“Well I wouldn’t need to if you were actually taking care of them!” Hood retorted back, putting a knife into the knee of a man trying to shank him. 

“Hey! We agreed nothing lethal!” Nightwing shouted from the other side, his big brother instincts somehow sensing that the Hood was acting out.

“He’ll live, get off my back, Wing!” Hood snarled, ripping out the knife before slamming his elbow into the mook’s face. “Don’t act as if you’ve never injured anyone, I know you nearly killed that clown after he hurt your precious baby bird. At least you cared about  _one_  brother enough.” 

“I will not be lectured by a known murderer,” Nightwing answered testily. This had been a long patrol that ended up worse when the four of them somehow ended up at some sort of massive villain hideout. There were plenty of small fry, nothing they couldn’t handle but it was exhausting none the less. 

“Funny coming from you when you let the ankle biter follow you around,” Red Robin commented bitterly. “Hood’s right, you’re such a hypocrite.”

“Please continue, I would relish an excuse to finally remove you from our ranks,” Robin hissed, throwing small shurikens at the villains immobilizing them but not critically injuring them. It was a tedious effort and pointless in the long run but Batman insisted. 

“No one is removing anyone!” Nightwing shouted, glaring at each of his brothers individually. “Let’s just focus on getting this done and head home.”

“Easy for you to say when you have a home to return to,” Red Robin sneered, punching once, twice, and sending the poor man flying.

“Oh will you stop it with your martyr bullshit? The only home I got to call my own is a goddamn coffin,” Hood snaps, turning on Red Robin. 

“Please, you’re both wastrels. Can you stop bickering for a moment so I can concentrate, some of us care about the quality of our work,” Robin stated, catching the punch of a man and twisting his wrist so violently it broke. 

“Shut up, you’re what? 9? You’re as fucked up as the rest of us if you’re out here in tights and a mask,” Hood retorted. Robin dispatched with the few remaining criminals around him and spun to face Hood. Before he could escalate the fight any further, a black blur sped past them and obliterated any of the thugs remaining. The boys had whittled them down pretty good but the remaining quickly fell under the Black Bat’s practiced fist. The Robins lowered their weapons and sat back to watch their sister work.

“Nice work as always,” Nightwing said cheerfully as he dialed the GCPD on a burner phone and tucked it into the pocket of an unconscious criminal. “Let’s go.”

“Wait,” Black Bat said, stepping forward. “Oracle said, stop pretending. It’s late, you’re tired. No one is here.”

“You tell that bitch to mind her own damn-” Hood, Jason, growled before stopping and sighing, the tension leeching out of his shoulders. Babs was right, as normal, he was exhausted from too many late night patrols and the usual teasing, heated banter wasn’t fun anymore. “Right, okay.”

“Sorry I called you a murderer,” Dick whispered reaching out to stroke Jason’s arm. Jason allowed the contact but he did resist the urge to lean into it like he wanted. Maybe another night.

“Same,” Tim said softly to Damian who pursed his lips and nodded curtly to avoid mentioning how deep the comment had stung. But they all said cruel things to each other in battle, keeping up the persona of bickering brothers. It was nice sometimes just to put all that aside and admit that they cared. 

“You two aren’t a waste, your presence is both valued and necessary,” Damian answered as Tim playfully ruffled his hair.

“Alright, who wants to raid the Bat’s fridge for ice cream and watch Golden Girls,” Jason asked, putting away his weapons. 

“Can we find something from this decade?” Tim asked with an amused little smirk.

“Hey, they’re classics, cheeky brats like you wouldn’t understand,” Dick grinned, pulling Timmy under one arm. He saw Damian eyeing the motion and pulled him close with his other arm. 

“I don’t care,” the youngest brother muttered, “I just want to see Titus.” 

“Alright, last one back to the cave has to put away the gear!” Jason shouted, suddenly sprinting towards the exit. The other paused for a beat before following after, shouting about how unfair the challenge was even though they were going to give it their all. Cass smiled fondly at her brothers, so smart and strong but also very stupid in not realizing when it’s okay to just let everything go. She trails after leisurely knowing that she’s going to leave them all in the dust


	14. Tim Supports Kon

Kon was angry. It seems like such a simple statement but it doesn’t even come close to describing how he feels right now. He’s felt angry before but not like this. This is a bubbling hatred, boiling under his skin ready to explode. It makes him want to scream and cry and throw up all at once but mostly it makes him want to hit someone. And he knows exactly who he wants to hit.

He’s flying as fast as he can for LexCorp with nothing but pure, unfiltered rage fueling his flight. Because if he stopped to look beyond the anger for one moment, he thinks he just might drown in his guilt and grief. Conner had been… meeting with Luthor. Lex had been going on for years about how he’d wanted to be available for Kon as a father. Conner had ignored it for so long but since Jon came around, Clark was even less willing to be there for his clone and Conner had well… caved. He’d wanted someone, _anyone_  to give him a little attention, even his most hated enemy.  

It wasn’t anything big, they awkwardly talked about normal things and Kon gave extremely edited rants about his problems which Lex would patiently listen to before giving some advice. Conner even took some of that advice. They'd only met up three times but every time they did, Conner felt both relieved and also like he needed a shower. He didn’t even tell Tim cause well, he knows Tim and he knows that Tim would have talked him out of it. Dammit, he should have known this would happen, he should have-

“Luthor!” He shouted, throwing open the window he normally used to sneak in for their meetings, the fragile glass shattered in his hands. Lex was sitting at his desk. He sighed and set down his cup of tea and raised a mildly disappointed eyebrow at Conner like a chastising parent.

“Why must you heroes always break my windows?” But while the parental tone might have calmed Kon down before, nothing short of a hurricane could stop his vengeance now. He sped forward and grabbed Lex by the front of his thousand dollar shirt and dragged him over the desk so the man could understand how upset he was. “Something on your mind son?” He asked in a silky sweet voice.

“You used me,” Conner ground out because he’s so angry he can’t even get beyond that glaringly obvious fact. “You tried to implant my DNA into pregnant women and babies, just so you could see what would happen. 13 people have already died you freaking lunatic.” He shouted because he can’t believe he had allowed himself to think that  _Luthor_ of all people might have actually cared for him as a parent. He’d wanted fresh samples for his sick experiments, DNA Conner has unintentionally given him during his visits, left on the chairs, on the windows, on the coffee cup. He was so goddamn needy that he let himself walk into such an obvious trap. No wonder Clark preferred Jon over him.

“Oh my dear Superboy,” Lex crooned, “I was just trying to ensure that your, our, legacy lives on. You were the only stable clone I could create, I haven’t been able to replicate the process since despite my efforts. Your DNA is magnificent, I thought maybe implanting it in pliable, growing cells would create a whole new kind of lifeform.“ Kon growled viciously and spun Lex around to slam his roughly into the wall of his office. The human winced but continued. "Don’t you see what I'm trying to do for you? I’m trying to give you the family you need my boy, the family Superman and his little club can’t provide for you. I’m the only one who truly cares for your interests Kon-El, even if you can’t see it." Conner was drowning in his anger and rage he doesn’t even realize he’s pulled back one fist to punch when he felt small, steady hands grab onto him.

"Superboy, stop,” Red Robin said sternly. Kon took the time to register Tim’s racing heart and shortness of breath. He must have raced over here, and for what? To stop him from doing what they should have done years ago? “Kon, this isn’t right, this isn’t what you want.”

“Don’t you dare tell me this murderer doesn’t deserve to have his bones crushed, his brain bashed in a few times. Do you even know what he’s done to those people? What he did to-” and he bit his tongue because, of all people, he doesn’t want Tim to know his shame. That he’d been so pathetic and so desperate, he’d turned to the devil himself for scraps of love. As if saying that Tim’s love hadn’t been enough for him. Tim’s hand moved down from Kon’s clenched fist along his bicep, resting there with care and assurance. Despite his angry, the gesture was comforting and some of the tension left his body.

“I know Superboy,” Tim whispered, “I know about your meetings.” Kon’s heart jumped into his throat. “You made a choice not to tell me, so I respected your decision and didn’t interfere but I did keep an eye on Luthor. As far as I could tell, he wasn’t doing anything unreasonable so this is both of our faults, more so me for letting you feel bad enough to seek him out.” Kon feet himself start to shake with the force of his emotion. “Put him down, Batman and I have the evidence to prove that he’s responsible, he’s going to pay for his crimes but you don’t have to lose yourself over him. He’s not worth it, I promise.”

“He, he used me,” Conner choked out feeling horrifically vulnerable in front of his enemy and his boyfriend. Because he hated the situation and he hated himself for getting into a position where he opened up his weaknesses and feelings only for them to be used against him. “He used me.” He said again more strongly, once again pushing Lex against the wall.

“He did, and he’s using you again because he knows if you hurt him then he can make all sorts of claims and avoid punishment altogether and I know you don’t want that.”  _No_ , goddammit. “So put him down and let him walk out the door. The MPD is outside his office, ready to take him in. It’s over Kon.” Still shaking, he released Luthor and let him fall gently to his feet. The man had the gall to smirk as he fixed up his suit.

“Thank you Red Robin, I always said you were the sensible one of Batman’s little brood.” But Tim merely turned to Lex with the full force of bat intimidation weighing down on him. Lex had at least 6 inches on him but Tim seemed to loom over him anyway.

“Oh I wouldn’t thank me yet. If you aren’t out of this office and in police custody within one minute, I will destroy you and everything you’ve done, everything you’ve built will be gone. I’m sure you’ve talked to your pal Ra’s, you know my threats aren’t empty. If you post bail or try to skip out of your sentence, you will come back to find your empire in ruins.” Despite the rather ominous, and serious knowing Tim, threat, Lex merely smiled.

“You’ve got good taste in men my boy. I look forward to seeing you both soon, please come pay me a visit in prison.” With that, Lex strolled out of the room like a celebrity but Conner could hear him being forcibly apprehended on the other side of the door.

“Conner,” Tim whispered delicately and put his hands on his wrists, his long fingers lying delicately on top of Kon’s pulse points. “Talk to me.” Kon turned away from Tim, in shame of what he’s done and of all the emotions bubbling within him. It’s stupid, Tim’s right, it’s over so why does he still feel like crying?

“I know you’re upset Kon and it’s okay, you made a mistake and there were consequences but, to be honest, Luthor would have gotten your DNA either way so this couldn’t have been avoided.” One hand came up to gently turned Kon’s head back towards Tim, “and what also can’t be avoided is your feelings.” Conner can’t help but let out a strangled laugh at that.

“You’re one to talk babe,” a small smile appeared on Tim’s face.

“I know, but I am trying to be more available and you help me get through all of my fears, let me feel brave enough to open up and tell you about the things bothering me.” Tim brings his other hand up and pulls Conner down until their faces are right next to each other. “The bravest thing you can do right now is let all those feelings out because hiding them all and pretending they aren’t there is what cowards like Luthor do. So talk to me, let me help you.”

And Tim’s soft, soothing voice just does him in. Kon wrapped his arms around the most important person in his life and dragged him closer. He leaned his head down onto Tim’s shoulder and let himself feel all the ugly emotions inside of him, lets all that guilt and anger and loneliness manifest in the tears that had been building since this fiasco began. Tim's hands were stroking his back and whispering comforting little things into his ear. And it’s not the words Tim said that ease Conner’s soul, it’s the way he said them. So loving, warm and inviting, accepting of him despite how badly he messed up this time. So Conner does the brave thing and hugs his best friend closer, letting his grief out and letting himself believe that maybe someday, he could be worthy of a man as good and loving as Timothy Drake.


	15. Barbara Visits a Newly Returned Jason

“How’s it going Little Wing?” Comes a light voice from the doorway of his beaten down safe house. Jason starts and automatically points the gun he’d been cleaning at the intruder. It was a pointless gesture seeing as the weapon was missing half of it’s useful parts, not to mention once he recognized the familiar voice past his instincts, there was no way in hell he would shoot either way. She already took one shot and look at what happened to her.

“Don’t call me that,” He growls, his voice rough from several days’ disuse. No one around to talk to but the rats who creep in at night. Not anymore. Babs just smirks in that way that conveys both care and power as she wheels herself in through the doorway, uninvited might he add, and breezes past the impotent weapon he still has trained on her. “What are you doing here? How’d you even find me?” He asks as he finally lowers his weapon and resumes his cleaning, if only so he doesn’t have to look the redhead, how she’s aged since he last saw her dancing with Dick in the Cave after patrol.

“Your door was unlocked,” she shrugs as if that answered his question and took a long, judgmental look around the place. He’s cleaned it up as best he could but no matter how much you fuss over something, sometimes garbage will always stay garbage. Bruce found that out real quick. “And you may be a big boy now but the all-seeing Oracle can still track down a renegade bird when need be.” She’s smiling at him again but it’s more tense, less friendly than before.

“So how long do I got before the big Bat and his little slaves come crashing through the windows?” He asks casually, calculating escape routes and alternative hide-outs so off the map, ones not even O could find.

“Probably a while since they don’t know about this place or that I’m here.” She folds her hands delicately in her lap. “I started looking for you once B gave me the lowdown and I finally got a hit on this place late last night. We’re the only ones in the city that know you’re here.”

“Awfully dangerous going to meet a known criminal all by yourself, isn’t it?” Barb wheels up beside his chair and lays a warm hand lightly in the crook of his elbow, he stops his avoidance busy work.

“You’re not a criminal Jay, you’re that bratty little kid who used to give me a hard time for my 'pretentious’ reading habits and said the Batgirl suit made my butt look big.” She smiles again sadly, “I felt like I was just starting to know you when you were gone. By the time I’d recovered enough from my own ordeal, you’d already been buried a month.” Her hand squeezes him gently, but firmly. “Bruce told me you were back but that you came back wrong, I had to see for myself.”

“B wouldn’t even let me come see you.” Jason whispers, dropping his head into his other hand, ignoring the gun grease he was getting all over his face. “I get it, I was a mess at the time, just the opposite of what you needed. I thought maybe I’d…” Jay trailed off because he didn’t know how he could even end that sentence. There so many things he thought he’d do back then, things he’d wanted that he thought he’d have time for that never came to be. “He really said I came back wrong?” He asks with a sad, bitter laugh. The description wasn’t wrong but it was just another brick in the wall between him and his old life.

“He said a lot of things I know he didn’t mean, you know how he gets when he’s upset, and more than a little drunk.” That raised Jay’s eyebrow. “Either way it didn’t matter. I gave him a piece of my mind, called him a few choice names and ran over his foot on my way out.” Now  _that_  had Jason laughing and even Barbara chuckled warmly beside him.

“That’s my girl, the best of all ‘o us that’s what I always used to say.” He lets out an angry huff as all those old familiar hurts begin to burn in his chest. He looks up and levels the redhead with a light glare. “Alright, enough of this, what are you here for Barbara?” And typically Babs, she glares right back at him.

“I’m here because you freaking  _died_  you idiot, you died and you nearly took Dick and Bruce with you. I’m here because I  _missed_ you and I wanted to see for myself if it was really true or if…” If B was losing his mind which was the scary alternative no one wanted. Not even him. “Because I hear from Bruce and from my contacts that the Hood is killing people by the dozens and because the Jason Todd I knew isn’t like the criminal I keep hearing about.”

“Yeah well,” he says, pushing away from the desk, and Babs’ hand still on his arm. He stands up and protectively crosses his arms. “A lot of things have changed. You more than most know how one bad day can just mess you right up.”

“Don’t talk like that,” she spits out, wheeling forward to confront him. “That’s  _Him_ talking, that sick freak who tried to ruin us both. But I refused to play his game and I beat him because I will rot in hell before I let that man have a victory over me. And this?” She hisses, gesturing to him, “this is you, giving in to him. You were always a little shit Jason but I never thought you’d just give up like that.”

“You don’t know nothing Barbie,” he responds back, getting right into her face. “You didn’t know shit about me back then and you sure as hell don’t know me now. You think you can wheel in here, show me the error of my ways and cure me of whatever sickness I got going on in my head? You think after crawling out of my coffin, after getting my scrambled brains back with a goddamn Pit that I’m just going to walk back to being that dumb shit kid? Is that what you thought?” He’s screaming by the end of it and, yeah, maybe Babs doesn’t deserve that shit but she’s here and he’s pissed as all hell.

“You’ve got plenty of reasons to be angry Jason, same as me.” She responds back, her voice level but filled with just as much spite. “But you need to take a good long look at yourself and your choices and you need to wonder, are you doing all this for  _you_? For your goals? Or are you doing it for _them_? For your anger at the Joker or B?” She pushes him back roughly with her palm making him stumble a bit. “Because if you were doing this for any real reason, you would have stayed away from Gotham, would have started over. But no, you’re angry at the people who hurt you and you’re letting that anger run your life. This is  _exactly_  the kind of behavior that got you killed and you know it!” She huffs angrily, gripping her wheels and swerving around him to head back towards the door. He’s still standing there, his fists shaking with rage.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he mutters and he hears Barb let out a sigh and stop moving. They let the air between them cool for an extra minute.

“Jason, there’s nothing wrong with what you’re feeling but I don’t think you’re dealing with it the right way. You need help, you need to move on from what happened to you. I can tell you right now that’s the only way you’re going to find any peace.” He still can’t bring himself to turn and look at her. “Do what you need to do, when you’re done lashing out at everyone who’s ever done you wrong, come talk to me. I left my card on your table. And for what it’s worth Jay, I’m glad to see you again.” She’s wheeled out the door now, ready to close it.

“The new kid, Tim, how is he?” He grinds out because he has to know. Has to know what this mystery boy had that made Bruce give over his dead son’s uniform.

“Tim’s great, quiet, eager to please, but nice. You’d have liked him, the old you anyway. He came to us, before you ask. He reminded us that Batman needed a Robin, someone to keep him good, focused. You used to believe that too, now I don’t know what you believe. See you around.” She closes the door and he lets her. There’s no way he can counter that without sounding like a hypocrite. Maybe he is one, maybe he doesn’t care.


	16. Bruce Finds Out About TimKon

When Batman first heard that his newest Robin had befriended the Superman clone, he thought it was a brilliant idea (actually his first thought was _oh god now there’s another one_  but that’s neither here nor there). Tim was intelligent and persuasive and if anyone could mold this Superboy into a legitimate hero, then Robin could. Unfortunately, it seemed that this Conner Kent was a bigger idiot than his mentor but Tim seemed happy with him and Flash’s hyperactive future grandson ensured that Robin was quite busy keeping the Young Justice League in line. Somehow, Bruce thinks Tim likes it that way, likes to be in control of superpowered beings. So he lets it lie.

Bruce groans the first time he finds Bart and Conner in his house. The two boys look at him with awe and fear. Tim just shyly introduces his friends before dragging them off somewhere else before Bruce has a chance to yell at him about secret identities. Not that he would. The boys have proven themselves to be  ~~mostly~~  trustworthy and, more importantly, they make his boy happy. But did Tim have to bring them back to the house? His one safe haven from the costumed madness?

On a joint mission together, he notes with pleasure how well Tim has learned to manage his Team. He and Superboy especially seem to operate on a whole other level, able to balance each other perfectly with their deadly combination of brain and brawn. Tim’s done good work with this ragtag group of kids, he thinks as he watches his boy playfully interact with them after the fighting is done. Conner nudges his shoulder and whispers something that causes Tim to burst out laughing. Black Canary stands next to him, watching the merriment as well. She smiles. “Tim and Conner sure are cute together, aren’t they?” She says, he doesn’t understand what she means by  _cute_ , but he nods anyway.

Tim is wearing a shirt with the Superman shield while he sleeps. Bruce has gone to check in on the boy, to make sure the overworked hero is actually sleeping for once, any other reason would be ridiculous. He notes that the shirt is far too big for Tim, like it wasn’t made for someone of his smaller body type. He stands there for a moment, hovering on the edge of a revelation before he decides that Tim probably just likes to sleep in bigger shirts and leaves the room.

He finds Tim and Conner holding hands one day in the cave. As soon as they see him, they blush and immediately release each other. Tim starts to stammer out some excuse which Bruce doesn’t understand. Obviously the boys had just come back from a flight. He’s often seen that Superboy will fly holding Robin as such. He just wishes they didn’t fly during the middle of the day but lets it slide. To calm them down, he asks if they had a nice time flying. He does not understand the confusion on their faces.  

It is a rainy Saturday night and the boys are watching a movie. Tim and Conner are huddled close together on a blanket, it appears Tim’s head is resting on Conner’s shoulder. They are watching a zombie movie, talking quietly to themselves while Dick also watches from a neighboring chair. Bruce wonders for a moment if Tim is getting sick, he must be awfully cold to be huddling so close to his friend. Kryptonians run at a higher temperature than humans, Conner must have allowed the contact to warm Tim up. What a good friend.

“Do you think Tim needs anything?” He quietly asks Dick who looks up at him with such a proud, warm smile. Ah yes, Dick must be impressed with his wonderful parenting skills.

“I’m so glad you’re okay with this Bruce, I know Tim is too.” Bruce looks up with distaste at the movie they are watching where some poor young woman is having her arm chewed off.

“It’s not something I myself enjoy but I know you kids like it so I allow it.”

XxX

Clark approaches him one day in the Watchtower with a proud, beaming smile on his face. Bruce feels annoyed just looking at it.

“Ma has invited you over for dinner this Saturday night.” He begins cheerily, “we’re going to have a nice meal and then see the boys off to Conner’s Prom. I’m sure you’ll want to take pictures.” Bruce rolls his eyes. Yes, Tim had already informed him that he would be accompanying Conner to his local dance. Poor dumb idiot probably couldn’t find a date and Tim graciously offered to step in. He's a nice boy like that.

“I’ll be busy Kent, Tim can handle himself.” He remarked stiffly, watching from afar as Tim stands on his tiptoes to whisper something in Conner’s ear. The clone blushes at whatever Tim has said. Clark gives a little pout.

“Oh come on Bruce, we both know by ‘busy’ you mean glaring at a computer screen while you eat chips.” He pats Bruce’s shoulder. “Our boys are going to Prom together in Kansas, it’s not going to be easy for them. You should at the very least come and show some support for your adopted son and his boyfriend.”  What.

“Boyfriend?” Bruce scoffs as he jerks a thumb over at Conner, “you can’t possibly be serious?” They were just really good friends. Clark gives him a blank look.

“Bruce, Tim and Conner have been dating for months now. They don’t make a secret of it. Even the bad guys know. I hear they’re doing a TV movie about their romance.”  _What._ “Yeah, it was obvious they were in love for a while but Conner bit the bullet during the Christmas party and confessed. You were there too, everyone clapped, it was beautiful.”

“I thought Conner was merely trying out the Earth tradition of kissing under the mistletoe and Tim happened to be the unwilling victim, six times in a row.” Bruce trails off as suddenly all the pieces in front of him connected.  _ **What.**_  It wasn’t that Tim preferred boys, no, Bruce didn’t care as long as he was happy. But of all the boys in the world, Tim had to place his sights on  _that_  boy? He turned around to face the lovebirds who were nuzzling their noses together. He growled, they looked so happy together. Tim would probably be upset if Bruce killed him.

“Fine,” he barks turning back to Kent. “I will be at the Farm on Saturday, Tim will look very handsome and we will take a lot of pictures. But not before I have a long, painful, kryptonite-laced conversation with your clone about treating my boy with respect.”


	17. Villain Tim

“Good evening Detective,” came a familiar, devilish tone from within Tim’s latest safe house. Tim ought to be worried that Ra’s al Ghul was not only able to find his hideout but also bypass all his defenses, but he seemed to stop caring about such things a while ago. About the same time he stopped caring for things in general.

“Good morning Ra’s, I trust my security didn’t give you much trouble.” Tim quipped, not looking up from his computer as he continued his frantic typing. It was exhausting, but ultimately easy work to dismantle the mainframes of Gotham’s greatest gangs. It was a lot easier when he didn’t even consider the collateral damage such a swift and merciless attack would cause.

“It’s actually late evening young man but I suppose I can forgive you seeing as you’ve been hard at work,” Ra’s responded with a light little grin. “It’s a good thing your little nest here is soundproof, outside these walls this city is collapsing in on itself.” Tim shrugged, taking a moment to roll his aching shoulders before continuing to destroy Black Mask’s empire.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing. Batman made this city into a freak show and then prevented it from pyretic self-destruction. Maybe this city needs to burn itself to ground, take out all the disease within it and start over.” Ra’s hummed and stood behind Tim’s chair, watching the screens with interest.

“That’s how I have always viewed the situation, though I never imagined you would share those views, Timothy.” A suspicious look crosses his aged face. “Might I inquire as to what caused this change of heart?” Tim laughed, something cold and bitter and broken. He can’t remember the last time he laughed genuinely, perhaps he never will again. Maybe one day he’ll stop missing it.

“I think you mean what didn’t happen? Stephanie, my dad, Conner, Bart, Bruce.” Tim takes a moment to harshly rub his palm into his eye where his last vestiges of love and emotion were bubbling up. “Then your bratty grandson stole my costume, my brother, my life. Dick and Alfred, two people I trusted more than anything, pushed me aside to make room for him. They wouldn’t even listen to me when I said Bruce was alive.” The vulnerability within him twisted and turned into something hot and vicious, something much easier to deal with. “After all I’d done for them, after all the times my theories were proven right, all the times my skills saved them, and they dare to call me  _crazy_.” He said through gritted teeth as Black Mask’s finances crumpled and Tim left a neat paper trail leading back to the Red Hood. Jason had never done anything but try to kill him, Tim figured he might as well return the favor.

 "You have been through a great deal my boy, suffered more than any man should be expected to in one lifetime.“ A weathered hand landed on Tim’s shoulder. “I’ve always admired your skills Timothy, you’ve always proven yourself to be superior to your fellows. You have a sense of clarity and decisiveness that is quite refreshing. The League will welcome you with open arms, train you, hone your skills into something truly remarkable.” Tim hummed absently as he continued typing, finishing up his last bit of work before the criminal infrastructure of Gotham collapsed entirely. He’ll have done in a few million key strokes what Batman had been struggling for his entire life, how fitting that the man hadn’t lived to see it.

“Thanks but no thanks Ra’s.” Tim said after a few more minutes tying up loose ends. “I’m not doing this for attention, like Jason or misplaced obsession like Bruce.” He spun around and faced the Demon’s Head with a blank expression. "I’m doing this because I am pissed, because I am sick and tired of being pushed aside and written off. Well they can’t call me the boring Robin anymore; I just wiped Gotham City off the map.“

"That you did, will you stick around to see what your family will say? Or what about the Batman, you mentioned he was alive.” Tim stood up and stretched as he adjusted the collar of his shirt and reached for his coat on the back of his chair.

“Oh he was alive, stuck in time somewhere, before I tricked Booster Gold into manipulating the timestreams. Now he’s never getting out, he’d be better off dead but I guess I was more mad at him than I thought.” Tim said, beginning the final shut down procedures on his computer; when he walked out of this place, this whole building would blow sky high. “And I don’t have a family, I’m only just realizing that I never really did.” He responded, gently maneuvering his arm so a knife slid from his coat sleeve into his palm.

“So where will you go?” Ra’s asked, seemingly relaxed as he watched Tim’s computers purge itself of all data.

“Somewhere no one will find me. With all the chaos that’ll be going on in Gotham, Tim Drake will be just another hapless victim. No one will care and no one will look for him. I’ll disappear and start over somewhere new.” Ra’s raised an annoyed eyebrow.

“You’re too talented to simply walk away from all this. You are free to go find yourself but know one day I will be at your doorstep offering you an opportunity to better yourself.” Tim smiled, one Dick used to call his sweet smile, as he walked past Ra’s and dragged his knife deep across the immortal’s throat. Tim almost felt offended by the surprise written on the man’s face as the blood gushed down his chest. Even now, people were still underestimating him. In the second or two Ra’s had been distracted by his wound, Tim grabbed the man’s head and twisted it violently until he heard the spine snap. The body fell to the floor with a graceless thump.

“No,” Tim said calmly and he dropped the knife and flicked off some blood from his hands. “You won’t.” Without a second glance at the dead man at his feet, the life he’d taken with his own two hands, Tim walked out of his underground safe house as he protocols began to activate. The League would probably trace Ra’s back to Gotham, possibly even to this site. They’d most likely blame the Bats for their Master’s death and even if they did discover Tim’s part, they’d never be able to find him. He looked at his phone for the first time in hours where there were almost a dozen messages waiting for him.

He listened to them as he strolled out onto the streets of Gotham, listening to the chaos and panic begin to build as the city’s criminals rose and rioted against each other. The first few messages were from Dick and Alfred, casually asking where he was. The next were more frantic as the city had started falling apart and they begged for Tim to come back and lend aid to the impending disaster. Damian even called once, speaking quietly into the phone so no one else could hear, demanding that Tim stop sulking and come back. The last one was from Dick, while the previous messages were filled with background noise this one was silent except for Dick’s haggard breathing.

“Tim… Barbara traced the coding on these hacks. Those are your codes that are tearing this city in two.” Dick paused and took a deep breath. “I don’t know if someone stole them or if you’re being forced into this but please, Timmy, you need to come home and help us. We need you, we’ve always needed you, now more than ever. I need you to come home and tell me it’s not what I think it is, that you aren’t doing this,  _purposely_.” Dick ground out as if the word physically pained him. “Please little brother, please end this.” Tim gazed thoughtfully at his phone before dropping it to the ground and smashing it into pieces.

Tim did what Dick asked, he ended it. No more chasing the costumed maniacs across Gotham for the millionth time, no more batsignals in the sky or the feel of gravel beneath your feet just before you dive off a rooftop. He’d ended the endless madness of Gotham City and single handedly brought down the Batman. He smirked, not even the JLA could do that, not bad for the Robin no one seemed to remember. And he would be forgotten, only this time on his own terms.

Maybe Ra’s was right. He was awfully talented and it was a shame to let all that talent go to waste. He’d get out of Gotham and reinvent himself courtesy of the few billion he liberated from Gotham’s worst. But maybe one day he’d come back, if not to Gotham than to another part of the world that slowly being consumed by it’s own wickedness. Maybe he’d show them what really happens to those who are forgotten; those who slip quietly out of view only to come back something else entirely.


	18. Batfam watches Lilo and Stitch

Damian Wayne cannot sleep which is an unusual situation. He was trained to be able to sleep under any circumstances and to awaken at the slightest sound. Even when injured from patrol, in so much pain he can’t even breathe, he never has a difficult time resting. Except for tonight, all because of that stupid movie. Damian groans and grabs at his hair, twisting onto his side and curling into a ball, cursing Grayson because this is all his fault. Technically it’s Father’s fault for insisting that they only watch “child appropriate” movies with Damian but he can’t very well blame Father and Grayson is a much easier target.

Because he chose the film. That ridiculous, childish film about a girl and a blue alien that was brightly colored gibberish intended for young, mindless audiences. Damian had been infuriated he was forced to watch such drivel just by the fact of his age when he is, clearly, more mature and experienced than the other older children he’s forced to recognize as family. It was a miserable, dreadful experience he had no wish to repeat. And yet he can’t stop thinking about it.

He turns over to his other side and glares at his bookcase, thinking of the tiny blue abomination (but no he can’t say that? People used to say that about him and he remembers how much that title had hurt) going through the Hawaiian girl’s books and finding the one on the ugly ducking. About the small duck, lost from his family is taken in and given safe haven and accepted for all his ugly traits. Damian flings one arm over his eyes and sneers because if he doesn’t, he might cry.

If only it were that easy, to find a new family and to find a place within it. He shouldn’t expect nuance in a children’s tale but he wanted to scream at the television. What about mothers who are only concerned with their own goals, or useless siblings who refuse to give you another chance, or distant fathers who don’t even try to understand their bitter, ugly children? Even the alien Stitch realized how woefully inaccurate the book was. His presence nearly killed the family, nearly wiped out the island and caused the people he cared for to hate him. Damian frowned and sat up, looking over at his slightly cracked door.

But Stitch repaired the mistakes he made, he was able to prove himself to the humans and aliens that he was worth the trouble, that he could change, grow and love. That he was worthy of being in the family. Maybe someday he’ll be able to repair his own mistakes and stop being such an outsider in his own home. He puts one foot on the floor then another. Grayson would understand, he always does. Quietly, Dami tiptoes out of his room and quickly runs by the other doors so not to wake anyone. He doesn’t want anyone else knowing about this, this momentary lapse of weakness. He slips inside Grayson’s room, closing the door and walking up to the bed and gently shaking what he assumes is the man’s shoulder.

“Grayson,” he whispers, “move over, I need to have words with you.”

“What’s the matter, you lost brat?” Drake asks sleepily, sitting up in Grayson’s bed. Damian is so shocked by the other teen’s presence that he almost misses Todd, who is curled up behind Drake, sit up sharply.

“Waz goin’ on?” he slurs sleepily grabbing ahold of someone, Grayson he’s assuming, next to him. Finally Grayson does appear, shaking off Todd’s hold and smiling warmly at Damian, as if his bed isn’t already completely filled with uselessness and stupidity.

“What are you doing here Dami? You need something?” The man asks through a yawn while Drake decides to lay back down. “Sorry if we scared you, I forgot that Lilo and Stitch makes these two sad. Jay used to watch it with his mom and Timmy really identifies with Stitch.”

“He just wanted a home, someone to love him and give him a chance. He didn’t mean to ruin everything.” Drake whispers to himself, curling into a ball while Dick leans over to ruffle his hair. Damian blinks, thinking how easy it would be to slip out. To claim some excuse and make his escape without anyone the wiser. Or maybe if he wants to a part of this family he needs to stop hiding his feelings away all the time and actually be  _a part_  of the family.

“Move Drake, you’re not the only one with loneliness and self-worth issues.”


	19. Captain Marvel Meets Robin II

There was something about Gotham that put Billy Batson at ease. He thinks it’s the same thing that makes pretty much every normal person feel uncomfortable. There’s this feel that Gotham has, it's something heavy and slimy that settles on your shoulders, makes you to be alert or else you’re dead. It makes him feel that, if he had to, 12 year old Billy could probably survive in the cold, unforgiving streets of Gotham. Fawcett City isn’t half as bad, but three years of homelessness tends the make that same sorta angry paranoia needed to survive in a place like Gotham.

But Billy Batson isn’t here, not really. Cap is here for a meeting with the Bat, and though Cap and Billy are technically the same person, Cap’s got the Wisdom of Solomon and the Courage of Achilles and all sorts of other bad-ass things that make Billy’s thoughts and feelings seem dim and far away. He thinks it’s the Wizard’s magic in him that brings out Billy’s best qualities in Cap and buries all the ugly, street stuff deep inside. Buries it until Billy comes back and needs all that stuff to survive in a city all on his own.

He shakes his head, he doesn’t have time for philosophy, Bruce wouldn’t have called him to the Cave if it wasn’t urgent. B says it’s just a mission report but he could’ve given that to Cap at the Watchtower, so whatever it is, it’s gotta be like,  _mega-bad_. If he wasn’t so distracted by the fact that Batman probably was gonna to chew him out into next week, he’d be busting a nut over how freaking awesome the Cave was. Cap’s been here before but it never stops being wicked cool. He wishes he could be Billy, just for a sec, so he could run around and look at all the cool gadgets but Cap’s got bigger things to worry about. Like whether Batman is gonna slow roast him or just skin him alive.

“Why do _I_  have to give it to him, you called him here, you deal with him.” A whiny kid’s voice says from what sounds like the top of the long staircase leading up to Wayne Manor proper. He leans in closer even though with his enhanced hearing, he doesn’t need to. It’s not eavesdropping, it’s evidence gathering.

“I agree but the signal just went up and I’m sure it’s important. I don’t have time to give Marvel the report details.” He hears Bruce’s voice respond as he begins walking down the stairs. “You helped me organize the file information, you should be able to explain it. That’s a minimum requirement if you want to be Robin.” Cap remembers to straighten himself up and is casually whistling and examine his nails by the time they arrive in the Cave so they don’t suspect him of listening in.

Inside he’s pretty shocked, the big guy keeps his private life pretty hush-hush but he didn’t know he had another kid lined up to be Robin. He makes a note to do some research next time he’s at the Fawcett City Library about any new kids Bruce Wayne has adopted recently. But the biggest shock is when B steps out of the way enough for Billy to look at the soon-to-be Boy Wonder. The boy pouts and uncrosses his arms long enough to swipe the file out of Bruce’s patient hand.

“Captain,” Billy straightens as the scariest dude,  _like ever_ , says his name. “I’m afraid there’s something I must attend to and I can’t give you the notes on the last mission’s report myself.” The Bat rests a light hand on the boy’s shoulder and the pinched, cautious look on the kid’s face is so familiar, it’s like looking in a mirror. "This is Jason, he’s been staying with me, he’ll be giving you the details in my place. He’ll be undergoing training soon so he needs to be able to do this sort of thing. I appreciate you taking the time to come out here in person and would appreciate it further if you’d be a sounding board for Jason to test his skills out on someone other than myself.“ So Batman called him out to Gotham… so he could give his kid the chance to learn basic skills with a non-judgmental hero. The part deep inside that has vague memories of loving parents feels warm beneath the crushing feeling of jealousy and guilt. He knows a dirty, messed up street kid when he sees one, and he bets this Jason kid has no idea how good he’s got it getting someone as caring as Bruce to take him in.

“Of course sir," Cap responds a second later as he tamps down all those parts of Billy inside and works on channeling his very best for the new kid. He's supposed to be the mentor in this case, he’s gotta set a good example even though the kid looks older than he is. "I’ll help out in anyway that I can, you can count on that.” Jason makes a face at Cap’s natural enthusiasm and Batman merely gives the boy a light, affectionate knock on the head.

“Behave, both of you. You’re free to leave once you’ve received the report Captain, you’re aware of how the Zeta tubes work. Jay, when you're done I want you to finish reading that book on basic criminology. If you get that done, I’ll read you the next chapter of  _Alice in Wonderland_  before bed.” Jason blushes and ducks his head mumbling some embarrassed curses under his breath. But Batman either doesn’t hear or is used to being called such things and walks over to the Batmobile firing up the engine. “I’ll be checking the security footage later and grading you on your report so don’t think you can skip out. Alfred’s in charge while I’m away. Captain, thank you again. I will see you at the meeting next Thursday.” With that, the door closed and the ground beneath the car turned so it was facing the tunnel exit and soon was screaming out of the Cave like, well, a bat out of hell.

He's distracted by how sick that ride was when Jason shoves the manila folder against his chest. The kid takes a deep breath, puts his shoulders back obviously trying to appear older and more mature as he begins a detailed narration of the last mission. Billy has to admit, the kid is good. He's smart, interpreting the information not just reciting it. His vocabulary is, like, twice the size of Billy's and he’s standing there talking like an actual adult instead of the antsy kid who looks like he’s three seconds from bolting. If Billy wasn’t intimately familiar with that sensation himself, he sure he wouldn’t have noticed Jay’s absolute discomfort at being left alone with a strange older man. Cap can see why Batman picked him up.

“Alright, that’s everything, any questions?” Jay asks in a carefully stated monotone that does nothing to betray his uneasiness. Billy wonders if Batman already trained him that way or if the kid had already learned to control his fear before coming here. 

“No, that was great!” Cap says eagerly, as Billy takes a casual step or two back to ease off on the kid. “Batman sure has taught you well, I just know you’re going to make an amazing Robin.” Jason’s mouth jerks vaguely upwards for a second before going back to it’s back to his neutral position.

“Has anyone else told you that you’re a bit corny?" Jay asks with an amused raise of his brow. Clearly Jay isn’t feeling very threatened by him anymore which allows Cap to relax and maybe let out a bit more of Billy. It’s not very often he gets to talk to kids his age about hero stuff, not to mention one who was in a similar position to Billy.

"All the time, it’s part of my charm but Green Lantern disagrees. I say that anyone who runs around waving his ring around advertising his favorite color doesn’t have room to talk.” Jason snorts and the two of them share a conspiratorial chuckle together “You’re real lucky Bruce took you in, he’s a good guy, he acts like he’s my dad sometimes but he does it cause he cares.” Cap is shocked when the semi-smile falls off Jason’s face but Billy really isn’t.

“Right, I’m just so lucky this rich guy picked me off the streets and told me I wasn’t living my life right and that he was make everything better as if a few weeks of clean sheets and a threes squares a day are gonna erase all the crap I seen, the stuff I done.” Jason says bitterly, folding in on himself as he crosses his arms over his chest. His blue-green eyes were stormy with anger and insecurity, upset at Cap’s unintended ignorance but also at himself for his fears that maybe he _isn’t_  deserving of all the good things happening to him. Sometimes what Billy thinks and what Cap says don’t always match up, as if everything he says passes through a filter to make it as good as possible. But Billy gets it, he got the same spiel every time he was transferred to a new foster home, before he realized none of them had what he needed and decided the streets were better for him.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to offend,” and he winces again trying to push Billy to the forefront instead of letting Cap’s, welling meaning but naïve, attitude interfere. “I just mean there are a lot of people who take in street kids ‘cause they’re nice and it’s the right thing but they don’t know how to handle them. With Bruce, you have someone who gets that things aren’t going to be perfect now that you’re in a proper home, who understands that bad things don’t always stay in the past. I know it’s different from being in the streets and you’re probably wondering if all this is worth it but I know Batman and I know he’s gonna do the best he can for you.”

Jason stares at him, long and hard before humming quietly to himself and gently jerking his chin forward. It’s a sign of respect, of acknowledgement from one dirty rat to another that they understood what the other is going through. He’s not worried about Jay telling the Bat about Captain Marvel being, what he believes, a former homeless kid. Street boys don’t rat each other.

“Yeah man, it’s cool.” Jay shrugs casually after a minute, relaxing his shoulders completely for the first time since coming downstairs. “Anything else I can get you before you head out. Alfie buys like, way too much food, you could take some if you want. I don’t think either of them would even notice.”

“I appreciate the thought,” Cap says cheerily, cause he does. It's coming up on winter and fresh food is scarce and Billy’s little supply is wearing thin awfully fast. But he promised himself from the start he wouldn’t have the Cap messing with Billy’s life, it went against his code and it just wasn’t fair to the other kids making their own living. “But I can take care of myself.” Jay smiles, a small but nice smile and Billy finds himself irrationally happy that Bruce was able to save this kid, give him the home he deserved.

“I’m sure you can," Jason holds out his small fist, "see you around? B is still keeping me kinda on the down-low for now while the papers go through. Not even the reporters know yet so I could use some company.” Cap gingerly returns the fist bump.

“You bet, I’ve never gotten an official tour of the Cave and I bet it’s got the coolest stuff around. Next time you gotta tell me the story behind the dinosaur man.” Jason laughs.

“Yeah, next time.”


	20. Superboy Learns to Respect Robin

Superboy, newly dubbed Kon-El, examined the note he’d found taped to his new room at Mount Justice where he’d been crashing since, well, he had no other place to go.  _The Gym, 3pm, Be ready to fight_. Seeing as only him, Impulse and the new Robin came to the old headquarters they sort of commandeered for themselves and Imp had illegible chicken scratch, you didn’t have to be the World’s Greatest Detective to figure out who was challenging him. He tucked the note into his jacket pocket and kept walking, determined to see what their little group’s resident human was up to.

He honestly didn’t know what to make of the Boy Wonder. I mean, yeah, Superman had gone on before about how impressive Batman was but his kid sidekick didn’t do anything for Kon. He was tiny for one, smaller than even Imp who was just a skinny beanpole himself. Rob was kind of annoying and naggy too, trying to direct and boss around the two metas like he was the leader or something. And who ever thought it was a good idea to put some random dude, a _teenager_  even, in charge of a bunch of superheroes? So maybe that’s why he finds himself walking down to the Mountain’s gym at 10 to 3.

He’s curious what the human thinks he can do to someone as strong (nearly) as Superman. Kon probably should be more worried about accidentally hurting the kid, they were like maybe sorta friends after all, but right now he really wanted to punch something. Supes let him use the name and the symbol but no matter how much Kon tried, the man wouldn’t give him the time of day. All Kon had was his costume, a rundown secondhand base, a crazy speedster kid and an annoying nerd.

He pushed open the gym doors and found Robin was already there, stretching and working out. He doesn’t even look up as Kon enters, just kept swinging that dumb staff around. Kon noted that the kid was out of his usual uniform, down to a faded band shirt and workout pants. Rob’s even got a thin sheen of sweat over his body and Kon has to wonder how long he’s been here, not that a few push-ups will help him against the Boy of Steel.

“I got your note,” Kon said lightly just to add some sound to the eerily quiet gym. With a final grunt, Rob stopped his workout and grabbed a towel to dry himself off.

“Obviously or else you wouldn’t be here,” Robin leveled him with an intense look. “I’m also assuming your presence here means you’ve accepted the challenge.” Kon snorted at the kid’s prim attitude and pushed himself down onto the bench by the door.

“Look, I can imagine it’s pretty emasculating to be just a normal guy surrounded by a bunch of metas but you gotta see this is crazy. I could like, break every bone in your body with my pinky finger.” Kon shrugged with a brazen smile. “So you should stick to purse snatchers and muggers, me and Imp can handle the big stuff.” Rob’s face turned sour so Kon held up his hands in a placating manner. “Look ok, just chill. Come on, lets go watch some TV or something, I really don’t want to hurt you.” Instead, Robin put his stupid staff out, as if it could have any effect on Kon. His face was dark with determination.

“I appreciate your concern but if you’re that confident in yours skills then why don’t you come over and show me? Or do I need to tell Superman that you were too afraid to fight the boring human?” Kon’s shoulder tensed at Robin’s tone and before he knew it, Kon has shrugging off his jacket and walked to the center of the ring. Maybe Rob knew his situation with Big Blue, maybe he didn’t, but Kon can’t let that slight go either way. Maybe beating up Batman’s kid will get him a little cred with the League.

“Are there any rules to this?” He ground out and Robin just smiled.

“We go by Batman’s rules: do anything you can to take down your opponent without causing any permanent damage. You’re free to use your environment as you see fit.” Rob responded, giving his staff a twirl before settling into a solid stance.

“Fine, but don’t come crying to me when this is over in three seconds.” Kon grumbled, readying himself before launching himself at the other boy. He isn’t overly surprised when Rob dodged his admittedly clumsy attack but he was taken off guard when the kid grabbed him and redirected him so Kon crashed face first into the floor. Ok, that was uncomfortable.

“You need to work on not leaving yourself so open.” Rob said just a little smugly and Kon growled and got back to his feet and tried again. This time, he’s fully concentrating on the vigilante, intent on grabbing his stupid staff and breaking it in half. Again though, Robin moved gracefully, sidestepping Kon’s attack and smacking him so hard and precisely in the gut that Kon felt a bit out of breath. How the hell did he even do that? “Come on Superboy, I’m not even breaking a sweat. I know you can do better than that.”

But Kon was seeing red at this point. Who was this punk kid to mock him like this. Rob, who’s got a scary but pretty attentive mentor. Rob, who looked like he’s nine and talked like he’s forty and probably has never kissed a girl in his life. This human who probably had everything in life handed to him and thought he’ll score more brownie points by taking down a meta. Well Kon’s had enough people laughing at him in his pitifully short life and he’s not gonna take anymore of it. With a growl, Kon flew forward, probably faster than Rob could see. He grabbed onto the small wrist and squeezed, he hears a hiss but before he can let up, Rob does some freaky bat trick and slipped from his grasp. Still Kon reached out and grabbed the brat by his tee-shirt, dragging him back. He lifted Rob up until they’re eye to mask, the kid’s feet dangling off the ground. 

 "You think you’re so cool cause Batman’s your dad or whatever?“ Kon said, Rob got in a few good hits but he’s willing to bet they hurt the other kid more than him. “Well I have had it with other heroes thinking they can walk all over me cause I’m a clone or whatever. I’m in this hero game too so you all can take your pretentious crap and shove it up your-” Rob was squirming some more and soon, the lights above him turn a funny red color.

Kon doesn’t have much time to contemplate the change in scenery when he found he couldn't hold the other boy up anymore, in fact, it felt like all his strength just left him. Robin was deposited back onto the floor and brought his knee up into Kon’s gut. Unlike the last hit which left the clone feeling a tad winded, this completely knocked the breath out of his lungs. He staggered back, curling protectively over his stomach but Rob continued his attack. He used his bo as a sort of pole vault and launched himself as Kon. He tried to move but the other hero is too fast and Kon was pushed forcefully backwards. It’s all he could do to maintain his balance.

He let go of his stomach to try grabbing at the other boy but Rob swiftly blocked any attempts and wrapped one leg around Kon’s, flipping him upwards. Kon hit the mat hard and a second later, the staff was at his throat with Rob hovering over him.  His face was blank as he gripped Kon’s wrists and tangled his legs, preventing the clone from moving.

“You’re out of options, the match goes to me.” Robin said plainly. And Kon deflated because, damn, he can’t move at all and what the hell were these lights doing to him that a 100 lb kid is pinning him down. He squeezed his eyes shut in shame, so much for him hitting the big leagues.

“Yeah, ok I give.” He said quietly and Robin loosened his hold on him. Soon, Rob was kneeling beside him, extending a hand out to help to help him up. For a moment Kon was overwhelmed by a sense of rage and, before he could think, brought his head forward and headbutted the other hero. Both of them yelp at the sudden pain and gripped their heads.

“What the hell?” Rob asked, glaring at the clone while holding onto his aching head. “You called it, the match was over.” But Kon was too mad to even think about that so still lying down, he roughly shoved the kid beside him.

“The hell did you do to me?” He demanded and Rob reached over for his staff and clicked a button causing the lights to return to their normal color. Kon took in a deep, grateful breath as his strength and powers return to him. Even the pain from all the blows he gave and took vanished.

“Red solar radiation is a weakness of Superman’s,” Rob winced, rubbing what’s sure to end up a brilliant bruise on his forehead. “He and all Kryptonians get their powers from Earth’s yellow sun. Red solar energy, like in the lights I put in 2 hours ago, cancel out the yellow sun and leave you powerless.” Kon blinked and squinted up at the lights.

“I uh didn’t know that.” He admitted finally because what else can he say? Rob gave him a wry little smirk as Kon clamored so he was sitting up.

“You really should know the limitations of your powers. If we run into a place without a yellow sun, you’d be useless.” Kon frowned at the implications. “Similarly, I’m not totally useless either. I was able to hold my own against you for a while and then when I switched on the lights I whipped your butt.”

“Yeah but you can’t do that every time you fight a bad guy,” Kon argued back even as he’s starting to see the point his friend was trying to make. Rob ceased rubbing his head in order to cross his arms.

“No but I am a pretty decent detective and I’m getting better at planning and solving problems. With time and information, I can manipulate events in my favor to make up for my lack of powers and be just as valuable to the team as a meta.” Rob looked away shyly. “I need to stay on this team, Kon. Batman’s not exactly thrilled to have me as his Robin and he keeps threatening to bench me for good. I know I can be useful, more useful than I am sitting alone in Gotham, but I keep having to prove to people that I’m strong enough.” And Kon well, he doesn’t know how to answer it because Rob just voiced the exact same fears he’d been having.

“What the hell man, why would Batman bench you? You rock dude, you kick major ass for a little guy. You are so overqualified. We are like, so lucky to have you on this stupid team.” Rob smiled a little at the compliment before a frown once again overtook his face.

“I wasn’t exactly chosen as Robin, I kind of forced my way in after um the last guy died. Batman’s not happy that I took his dead son’s name and uniform but I thought I was doing the right thing at the time. Now I’m not so sure, but I have these skills and want to be of use to somebody, anyone who’ll take me really.”

“You and me both buddy,” and Rob’s looking at him now and, well shit, the guy did just confess his feelings so what the hell. “Superman ain’t exactly rolling out the welcome wagon for me either. Guess it makes sense he’d be spooked about some teenage clone made with DNA stolen from his dead body but, yeah, I’m looking for somewhere to hang too, people to roll with and help save the world.” Robin smiled suddenly, it’s warm and welcoming and Conner felt his heart speed up a little bit at the sight. Okay wow, he  _so_  does not need that but the feeling doesn’t exactly go away. Robin got to his knees and extended out his hand. This time, Kon let him pull him to his feet.

“Well then, I guess we’re just going to have to make due with each other, at least until we’ve earned their respect.” Rob said with that open smile, he let go of Kon to rub at the back of his neck. “Sorry about the red lights and all, I imagine that must have been pretty freaky. I can go over what I know of Kryptonian physiology so you’ll be prepared next time. We can train you to work through it.” Kon shrugged as if he wasn't dying for someone to help him.

“That sounds good and it’s all good man, sorry for headbutting you. That was pretty uncool of me.” Rob gave him a light punch in the arm.

“So we’re even then. You treat me with respect and stop making fun of me because I’m human and I’ll respect you and try and help you get better. Sound good?” Kon grinned, really grinned for the first time since this whole Young Justice thing happened, he’d been through an awful lot but he thinks he’s just made his first friend. He doesn’t know where the future will take him but right now he thinks he could handle anything if Robin was there to support him.

“Yeah man, but seriously, can we take a break? Let’s go watch Wendy together, you haven’t lived til you’ve seen  _Wendy the Werewolf Hunter_.


	21. Harley Learns Red Hood was a Robin

There was always something about the Hood that stuck out at her, from the very moment he first appeared. Mistah J had complained about the schmuck stealing his old gig, Penguin had griped about another vigilante mucking in business and causing trouble and, of course, old Maskie sure had the hardest time of them all. But there was just something about the guy that had seemed familiar, something nagging at the back of her brain that should couldn’t lay a finger on.

She’s at the museum, going after this pretty necklace she saw advertised on the news. She decided to go solo tonight, Ivy was having some special times with her plants and Kitty cat was leaning towards the right side of the law this week.  _Fine, she didn’t need anyone,_  she tells herself as she brings the mallet over her head to smash the case. Before she could finish her swing, a disc knocks it out of her hands and sends it flying across the room,  _then again_. She looks up and expects to see the Bat or one of his little birdies and instead catches the reflection of the moon glinting off a red helmet on the window sill above her.

“You know the Dias brothers were going to hit this museum tonight too,” He begins casually through the modulated helmet. “They haven’t been complying with my rules about selling drugs to kids so I thought I’d take them out during their robbery.” He shrugs, “I’m not so evil that I’d kill them in their beds, at least I can justify killing them when they’re breaking the law.”

Harley smiles broadly, keeping her face neutral as she takes one careful step backwards. For all his calm, his body language radiates confidence and strength and with his rapidly growing reputation to violently escalate the situation, Hood could very easily make a mess of her.

“And where do you think you’re going?” He growls out as he jumps down to confront her. “We were just getting acquainted cause you see, I knew your boss once, a long time ago, long before your pretty face came around.” She takes another few steps back towards her mallet as he slowly, menacingly comes towards her. “He hurt me bad, real bad, and I’ve never quite forgotten it. I’ve been waiting for the right time and opportunity to repay him and it occurs to me that maybe in that shriveled husk he calls a heart, there might be a spark of affection for you.” He reaches out to grab her arm but instead she ducks under and races towards her mallet. She grabs it deftly and throws it over her shoulder like a baseball bat, her face pinched and serious. Every woman knows when it’s time to drop the act and either get real or real dead.

“You back off buster, I don’t run with Mistah J no more so whatever beef you got with him stays with him. Now I’ve been able to smack Bats with this thing and I can tell you if it’s enough to take them down, it’ll sure get you too.” She’s prepared to fight tooth and nail if he takes one step closer but, to her surprise, he chuckles lightly and relaxes his predatory stance and holds up his hands in surrender.

“ _Holy female empowerment Batman_ ,” he teases lightly as a lightbulb goes off in the back of her head but she’s still too pumped up on fear and aggression to acknowledge it. “I do got a bone to pick with your boss, sure, but you’re just as much a victim as I was so I’m not continue his work and hurt you. I heard you’d cut ties with that louse, just thought I’d confirm for myself.” His arms lower, “now off you get, the Dias brothers will be here any minute and I don’t need you setting off alarms and scaring them away before I get in my daily dose of butt-kicking.”

Again, the familiarity overwhelms her as she finally places where she knows the Hood from. And wow, how about dem apples? She relaxes her guard, loosening her mallet so it bounces against the ground. Realistically, her revelation should only make her more cautious but for some reason it relaxes her. No matter how out of line he’s acting, Bats will always be Bats.

“You’re Robin!” She says excitedly, pointing at him, knowing she’s right when he tenses at the obviously familiar title. “The second one, right? The one Mistah J-” his fists tightens and she shuts her mouth quick as she can. She knows a thing or two about the invisible scars that man can leave. She leans forward on the handle of mallet, shaking her head at the incredible, impossible circumstances. Only in Gotham, right?

“Man you sure grew up kid, I used ta read about you in papers back when I was finishing up my doctorate.” She tilts her head to the side, “‘course you were a lot shorter and moral back then but I’m pleased to see you’ve learned to wear proper pants.” Hood growls again, but this time in annoyance and maybe a touch of embarrassment. Something tells her he wasn’t planning on making his Bat connections known. I guess that kinda thing does tend to sully one’s criminal reputation.

“So what happened to ya?” She asks in her neat, professional voice. “Why aren’t you back with Daddy? I know he’d be happy to see ya no matter what pants you’re wearing.” Hood aggressively begins ruffling his clothes and checking for his weapons, classic avoidance tactics. “You can tell me, like I said, I’m not dealing with the Joker anymore and I am a trained psychologist ya know. Maybe I can help. I know what it’s like to try and move past the bad things.”

“You don’t know anything,” he sneers, the venom visible through the voice modulator , “about what that man or that clown did to me. Batman took me into his home, gave me a shot and then left me in the-” Harley’s eyes lit up at the slipped information and grinned like a maniac.

“So wait you actually know the big Bat’s name? Ya weren’t just a part timer?” She hoots and spins around in a circle throwing her mallet. “Oh man, I gotta know, does he sleep in a real bed or does he hang upside down like a bat?” She puts a finger to her face and turns away from the vigilante even as she registers the confused disbelief in his body language. “Are there even any Bats at your place? Do you come home and there’s like a bajillion Bats flying all around and ya can’t get anything done.”

“ _‘Gee Batman’_ ,” she starts in a high mocking voice “’ _I sure wish I could practice my wicked kung-fu but there’s all these Bats in my face’_ ” she turns around, acting out the other half of the conversation. “ _'Sorry old chum, but I need those Bats to fuel my grim, dark Bat_   _powers_ ’”. She concludes with a laugh. “What does a Batman even eat? Fruit? Insects? Blood from a virgin?” She spins around and claps her hands. “Oh! You’ve got to tell me about those green panties! What was the point of that? What was Nightwing think-” to absolutely no one’s surprise, the Red Hood is long gone.

She sniffs haughtily at the rude, but familiar, tactic and wanders over to pick up her mallet. She looks at it thoughtfully for a moment before bringing it down onto the case containing her necklace. The glass shatters and the alarms begin sounding but she pays it no mind as she grabs the jewel and runs. The Dias brothers won’t be hitting up the museum tonight, so much for Hood’s,  _Robin’s_ , carefully planned stake-out. But that’s what he gets for leaving a girl without any answers and she really wanted to know the story behind the green underwear.


	22. Villain Tim 2

* * *

_tw for some torture, minor gore_

* * *

 

Roman Sionis aka Black Mask needed to get out of Gotham like, _yesterday._  The city was falling apart and his hard-earned fortune had disintegrated along with every other villains' meaning the criminal element of Gotham was erupting and threatening to take the whole city with it. But he wasn’t a freak like all the others, Gotham City was just a convenient place to settle his operations, but he didn’t have any particular love for this trash heap. He was letting the other maniacs fight over the scraps of the burning city while he got the hell out of dodge with his cash savings and started over somewhere new. Star City perhaps?

His thoughts were interrupted as he rounded a corner and was viciously smacked with a crowbar to his face knocking him off balance. He pulled at the gun in his shoulder holster only to have his hand smacked, broken by the feel of it, away. He gripped his crippled hand and glared fearlessly at his attacker, expecting some beefy hired muscle hired by Penguin or someone to stop him from leaving. Instead he’d met with a bored looking teenager, small and skinny and entirely out of place in the burning wreckage of the city.

“The hell brat?” He hissed, reaching with his other hand for his hip holster only for the boy to jam his crowbar into his shoulder, tearing through tendon and muscle until the tip was poking out of his back. The boy’s face never showed a hint of emotion through the brutal torture. Black Mask panted and choked through the pain, not willing to give him the satisfaction.

“Do you remember a girl, blonde, pretty,” The boy asked conversationally, twisting the crowbar. “Wearing a Robin costume?” Roman’s eyes widened behind his mask. He always knew one day he’d have hell to pay for what he did to that girl, but he’d always thought it’d come at the hands of the Bat, not this punk. “You beat her, tortured her for hours, even once she gave you all the information that you needed.” He tilted the crowbar up, digging it further into the man’s wounded flesh and Roman chewed his lip so hard his teeth bit through it.

“It was…” Black Mask wheezed out pathetically, “it was just business kid. Your boss knew that, she knew that too.” He said, gazing up at the kid’s blank eyes and mentally putting a domino mask over them. Well how about that. “I thought you Bats were against killin’? What the hell happened to you?” The boy smiled softly as he violently wrenched out the crowbar.

“I would love to tie you up, beat you for hours and make you feel the same pain that you caused her.” A brief moment of pure rage crosses across his face, like a shadow, before falling back to the same indifferent expression. “But the city is going down faster than I’d planned and I’m going to be out when it finally collapses. You aren’t the only one who needs my attention and I’m afraid this will have to be quick.” The boy said, raising the crowbar above his head with a strength someone his size shouldn’t posses.

“No, please kid, come on. Your little girlfriend wouldn’t want this, she’d want you to honor the Bat’s wishes and save me.” The same rage filled expression returned and Roman quickly changed tactics. “Ok fine, I’m sorry, you’re right. I shouldn’t have hurt her but please, just take the money and go. I won’t never hurt another girl again, I promise.” The boy smiled.

“I’ll make sure you don’t.” Sixteen minutes later, Timothy Drake walked away with a  suitcase full of money and an easy going smile. He wonders if that was how Jason sounded when he’d been beaten to death. Tim will never know seeing as he made sure to get to Mask after he’d taken care of the Red Hood. But it didn’t matter, all that did matter was that, in the end, Roman Sionis had screamed under Tim’s violence.

No matter what the man claimed, Tim is sure Stephanie was happy to have been avenged.

XxX

When the lights went out in Digger Harkness’s cell, he felt more annoyed than afraid. It was either another attempted breakout (which no one told him about the arses) and it would just mean higher security for all of them. Or it was Amanda Waller come back to put him back onto the Suicide Squad for another hellish mission he isn’t supposed to survive. Except he’s got this nasty habit of cheating everything, even death.

“I hope you’ve been enjoying yourself here in Coast City, Harkness.” A quiet voice echoed through his cell and Digger pushed himself up against the wall. “I could have just let you burn with the rest of the prisoners at Iron Heights while Gotham fell. But I wanted you all to myself, which is why I had you transferred out two weeks before I destroyed the city.” Digger paled and ripped his small lamp from the wall, holding it out as a weapon. He thought he’d been lucky when he heard from his new Coast City cell that Gotham had fallen, now he thinks someone wanted to keep him alive for something worse.

“Who are ye? What d'ya want with me?” He sneered, trying and failing miserably to hide his fear. He’d been around evil and death long enough to know what it felt like and right now he was choking on it.

“Oh I’m just like you Mr. Harkness, I was a son just as you used to be a father.” The voice responded as the speaker finally stepped out of the shadows, a dark, empty look on his face. “I had a father once, he wasn’t the best one, not even particularly good.” There’s a flash of steel in the dim light. “But he was mine, and you took him from me.” There’s another flash but this time, it’s the glow of teeth in the pale moonlight. “Now I’m going to take something from you and the Bat won’t be there to save you this time.”

There’s a scream that came from within the depths of Coast City prison, guards rushed immediately to the scene, Digger Harkness’s cell, only to find it empty. The prison was locked down and guards searching all over for Captain Boomerang. They did find him eventually. In pieces. Little pieces of the criminal hacked away bit by bit leading away from the prison, almost imploring the horrified staff to follow like a trail of breadcrumbs.

What’s worse was that judging by the cleanliness of the amputations and even some leftover pieces of gauze, it’s clear the perpetrator had kept the villain alive through all this torture, making sure the man was aware that he was being broken apart Piece. By. Piece. Finally they come across the man’s torso, down by the river with one of the man’s signature boomerang’s buried into his torn and abused chest. One of the guards had to rush off to the side and heave up his dinner while the other’s made the search for the dead man’s head. No one was ever able to locate it, most of them think that’s probably for the best.

XxX

“You know, I wasn’t sure if I would come here.” Lex Luthor started visibly as a voice came from inside his secured office where he was working late into the night. He growled as he composed himself and hit the button summoning the guards. Lex continued to slam the button stopping only when the voice began to chuckle lightly, as if he were doing something funny.

“I disabled your help button hours ago, not to mention that I sent the majority of your staff away on various errands and proofed this room so that you can’t escape or call for help. And do you know why I went to all that trouble, Mr. Luthor?” the voice asked politely.

“I’m sure you’re about to enlighten me,” Lex hissed angrily as he reached under his desk for his emergency gun only to throw it across the room when he felt from the weight that the bullets were missing.

“Because I haven’t decided if I’m going to kill you just yet.” The voice whispered in his ear, directly next to him and Lex pushed his chair away violently from the teenager that had managed to appear sitting on his desk without him noticing. The damn boy was even  _lounging_. “If I did, you’d be dead already.” He replied with a wicked little grin that put a shiver down Lex’s spine. Who _was_  this kid?

“Alright, you have my attention son. What do you want? A job? A favor? You’re clearly talented, I’m sure we can work something out.” The boy shrugged as if bored and checked out his nails, not even looking at Lex anymore.

“Nah, I’m not really doing this for money or power or whatever you megalomaniacs claim. I’m just a simple kid out to settle a few scores.” He leaned forward, pressing his fingertips together with an intense, intelligent stare. “You see, I’ve been fighting the good fight for some time now and it took me pathetically long to notice that it’s really not worth it. So I quit, cut ties with my fellows and have been doing a bit of a cross country tour of revenge.”

“Really now?” Lex drawled, he didn’t want to believe the kid, small, lithe and entirely ordinary but there was still something about the way he held himself that had Lex’s mind on high alert.

“I broke Ra’s al Ghul’s neck for knowing too much, beat Black Mask to a bloody pulp, I wandered over to Coast City and tore apart Captain Boomerang, I searched across time for Inertia and wore down his meta healing factor before doing him in.” The boy grinned with his teeth and it felt more like a threat than a smile. “I even killed Gotham City, the Bats too probably, haven’t checked in to see if they made it out of that hellhole alive.”

“Well that’s quite a track record you have there young man,” Lex said calmly meanwhile a very primal part of himself was telling him to get away right now. He’d read in the papers what happened to Harkness and everyone heard about Gotham. “So what does that have to do with me? You said you’re on a revenge tour, well what have I done that’s so bad?”

“That’s what’s got me hung up, it’s why I saved you for last.” The kid said, balancing his chin in his hand. “I though by the time I finished with the others I’d have made up my mind but I’m still debating. Do I kill you for manipulating and psychologically abusing my best friend? Or do I spare your worthless life for cloning him in the first place?” As if a flip had been switched, the boy’s identity came to mind and he felt even more nervous if that was possible.

“Surely you can’t blame me for Superboy’s death, you know I did my best to save him.” Robin, or the former Robin, pulled a face.

“I know, but I also helped him cope with his fears that he’d turn out like you: bald and evil. You really did a number to his peace of mind and there were a few times back when I was in tights when I thought about doing you some harm. And my morals have taken a nosedive since then.”

“So?” Lex said raising an eyebrow because if he could face down the Man of Steel without fear then he damn well could face down a child. A very dangerous, angry, morally compromised child.

“So I’m at an impasse, I could kill you right now and finally take my long overdue retirement. Or I could let you live out of acknowledgement that you gave me, for a time, one of the most important people in my life.” Lex leaned back in his chair gathering his wits because this was poker they were playing: quick, cruel and all about the face they showed the opponent.

“Quite the quandary, have you asked yourself what your friend would want?” For the first time, Robin’s emotionless mask cracked and Lex caught a glimpse of the grief hidden beneath the surface before the cracks smoothed over and it was gone.

“He was idealist, wanted to see the best in everyone, even you. He’d want me to walk away, leave you without a scratch and turn myself in for my crimes.” The boy’s head tilted. “But then again, Conner is dead and his opinion doesn’t matter.” Lex lightly gripped the armrests on his chair. “Maybe I should take a page from Two-Face’s repertoire. Let’s flip a coin.” He said reaching into his pocket and pulling out a shiny silver dollar. “Tails you live, heads you die.”

“Now wait a minute,” Lex said, reaching forward but the coin was already flipped.

“It often comes down to chance who lives and who dies, you should know better than that Mr. Luthor. Chance took my friends and family from me. Miserable circumstances broke my faith in humanity. Let’s see what fate has in mind for your future.”


	23. Timkon: Love at First Snort

Superboy didn’t see much of a future in this Young Justice team. First off, the name itself was offense. He didn’t want to be part of some Kids Klub Junior Justice League; he wanted to be out there making his own name, making the big bucks and getting all the honies. Instead he’s found himself saddled with the most hyperactive, inattentive speedster and a powerless boy who thinks he can boss around two metas despite the fact that the kid’s almost a foot shorter than him. 

Kinda lame entourage for someone who’s gonna be the next Superman but even the greats need to start somewhere. Might as well get some enjoyment out of it while he can. Rob’s doing  _something_  on the big computer and Imp’s flipping back and forth between the Xbox and his handheld gamer. Robin can be counted on to be a big sourpuss but Impulse should get a kick out of this. Man, the things the League just left lying around here are incredible.

“Robin, we’re needed back in Gotham. We haven’t met our bad guy punching quota for the day.” Rob’s face twists in a funny way but Impulse bursts out into wheezy little giggles. Superboy grins beneath the Batman cape and cowl and throws out one leg from beneath the cape revealing an old pair of Canary’s thigh high heels. “The Batmobile is broken so we’re hitchhiking back. Lose the tights and we might be able to get a ride. Don’t worry, Justice will keep you warm.” He hovers over Robin who’s face is all scrunched up like he’s trying not to sneeze. Superboy opens the cape revealing one of Wonder Woman’s bustiers filled with paper towels. 

“If that’s not enough, you can snuggle up to my manly pecs. It’s alright little bird, you can feel them if you want. Go on, I only let my favorite sidekicks touch.” Rob ducks his head and his shoulders shake a little bit. Superboy braces for the lecture about being respectful to the other heroes even though it’s totally their fault for leaving their costumes here. Instead, Robin lets out a very adorable little snort. Superboy’s eyes go wide beneath the cowl as suddenly Rob throws his head back and begins laughing hysterically.

“oh my god what the hell are you wearing where did you even find that?? Oh wow I can’t even look at you right now, stop, I can’t breathe.” Rob wheezes out, hunched over his stomach as he laughs loudly, occasionally interrupted by a little snort. He’s got a big smile as all the stress lines smooth out into laugh lines, it makes him seem so much younger. A few locks of hair bounce tantalizingly in front of his mask and Superboy finds he can’t look away. It’s like the entire Earth drifted off it’s axis and righted itself on the sound of Robin’s laughter. 

He feels a tingle start in his toes and light all the way up his spine, at the sight of Rob holding up a glove to his face to try, and fail, to contain his giggles.  _‘Oh boy’_ , Superboy thought as he tried to shake himself out of whatever dumbass thing his heart was doing right now. He’d been attracted to all kinds of people, guys, gals, aliens, the feeling was nothing new but he’d never felt anything this strong and for  _Robin_  of all people.

After a minute, Rob’s laughs slow down to breathy little chortles as he leans back in his chair with a wry grin. Superboy finds his eyes darting between Rob’s ruffled hair and gangling, relaxed posture before he makes himself look over at Imp. The speedster was grinning widely, looking back and forth between the two of them with obvious glee. Well, whatever, so Rob was kind of cute and had like, the most adorable laugh. It’s not like he was in love or anything. But he knows, deep down where he won't acknowledge it, that it could be with time, if he let it. 

“I haven’t laughed like that in weeks,” Rob moans, still catching his breath. “I can’t believe you, you’re either crazy or fearless.” Superboy puffs out his chest and the bustier slips a little bit making Rob laugh a little more. At that moment, he feels like he could take on the whole world and then some.

“For you Boy Wonder, I’d be both,” he explains, the light flirtation coming out easily. 

“Yeah, whatever clone boy,” Rob muttered but Superboy didn’t miss the light blush on his face before he turns and goes back to his computer work. Imp jumps up and demands to know where he’d found all the costumes, breaking whatever weird mood had descended over. Still, he turns to give Robin a quick glance as they leave and he thinks that there might be some merit in sticking out this Young Justice thing. He thinks he should try and make Rob laugh a little more.

(Years and years later, when he and Tim are asked how they fell in love. Tim will give a long winded explanation about their slow growing bond of friendship and how it blossomed into more. Kon talks about that cute little snort and how, even now, it’s one of things he loves most about the love of his life.)


	24. Red Hood Gets Transported Back to his Robin Days (YJ verse)

Jason is so confused. There are dead people alive and breathing (Wally’s been dead nearly five years now not to mention himself…), Dickie bird is back in that 80’s nightmare and, either he’s having hallucinatory dreams from that chicken salad last night or that's a younger, bouncier version of himself running around. They have him handcuffed right now, trying to figure out how he mysteriously appeared in the middle of Mount Justice which doesn’t actually exist in the present? In his present anyway. He sighs, he bet that little demon brat never gets into situations like this.  

“Who are you? Where did you come from?” Dick asks sternly but it’s awfully hard to take his big bro seriously with a plunging neckline like that.

“I’m a zombie from the future,” Jason replies in a bored tone. He’s almost out of these handcuffs, he’ll just beat his way past the Junior Justice League and find some place to figure what the heck is going on and try to get back to his real time. “The only positive thing about it is that your fashion sense improves slightly in the interim.” He hears the smallest click as he’s finished unlocking the handcuffs but he’s barely stood up before a batarang attached to a long thin rope wraps him up and pulls him back down into the chair. Dick beams.

“Nice one Robin! You’re really getting handy with those.” Jason Todd 1.0 preens at his older brother’s praise as he finishes hogtying his older self. God this was just pathetic, and to think he used to believe he was so cool in those pixie boots and scaly panties. How embarrassing, no wonder he got his skinny ass beat to death.

“Yeah, nice job kid.” He admits grudgingly, watching as the younger Robin scrunches up his face in a way that, frankly, quite adorable. Jeez, Bruce really didn’t stand a chance.

“I don’t need your praise you freak, now,” little Jason tugs harder on the rope causing Hood to lose all the air in his lungs from the constriction. “You better start talking or you ain’t gonna have enough air to talk again.” Jason is slightly amused by the uncomfortable looks on some of the other people’s faces. If air wasn’t such a precious commodity right now, he’d probably laugh. He remembered receiving those looks as a kid but he never quite understood the full impact of what they meant until it was too late. Hindsight really was 20/20.

“You got a scar,” Jason wheezes out, “cutting across your right collarbone. Your dad gave it to you when you were nine when you tried to stop his drunk ass from beaten up mom.” He coughed and took a deep breath as the rope slackened and the younger Robin took a few steps back, gloved fingers instinctively reaching to rub the aforementioned scar. He looked over with wide, unsure eyes over at his big brother who also appeared quite shocked.

“Explain,” Grayson says, folding his arms over his chest. Jason takes an extra moment or two to catch his breath.

“Like I said, I’m from the future. I’m what happens when Bats don’t keep an eye on their rambunctious young birds and they get themselves blown to high heaven.” Everyone’s eyes widen as they, finally, make the obvious connection. He smirks at them. Still, this could be interesting, maybe he could stick around a little while longer. It would be nice to catch up with Wally if anything. “Let me tell you a few things about your future and what to avoid, starting with that god awful costume. Both of you, get a real shirt you dick and for crissakes kid put on some pants.”


	25. TimKon Through Martha Kents Eyes

The first time Martha Kent met Tim Drake, she hadn’t known what to expect. She’d heard about him almost as soon as Conner had walked in the door for the first time. The boy had been so delighted to finally have Superman’s trust that he’d babbled away about anything that came to his mind which was, predominantly, his friends on his new hero team. He spoke of the beautiful but fun Wonder Girl, Impulse with his childish demeanor and maniac energy, Arrowette’s sharp wit and Secret’s quiet, loving presence. Mostly, he talked about Robin, the newest one anyway. Conner spent most of his time complaining about the quiet, authoritative young man but it was obvious that Conner cared for him, for all of them. So she didn’t mind that one was from the future and another given powers by Zeus, as long as they gave Conner the love and acceptance he needed, then they would always be welcome in her home.

Which is why one sunny Kansas day, she wasn’t terribly surprised to see two extra boys sitting in her kitchen. A brown haired boy, Bart, she soon learned, was a whirlwind of energy and chaos barely sitting still long enough to be seen. The other was much more reserved with a shy smile. As soon as she laid eyes on Timothy Drake she knew he’d come from a loveless home, was strong and independent because he’d had no choice but to learn on his own. It broke her heart to see a boy like that so unsure if he would be welcome into his friend’s house. But his hesitant smile slowly grew as Conner began recounting the story of their latest mission; Tim gently corrected her boy’s blatant over-exaggerations and soon enough was at ease. Their laughter rang through the house for the rest of the night and it was a lovely sound. She could see that they were all lonely souls, caught up the greater ministrations of their mentors. But they had found each other, and she thinks that will be enough.

XxX

The fourth time Martha Kent met Tim Drake, Smallville was experiencing a third straight day of heavy rain. She still remembers how small and scared Conner had sounded earlier that afternoon when he’d called earlier asking to bring his friend over. Apparently the first anniversary of his mother’s death and father’s coma had come up quite suddenly without his notice and left the boy feeling lost. She wasn’t sure what upset her more, the thought of that sweet, quiet boy feeling unable to turn to his mentors during such a time or the way that Conner had stuttered out a hesitant ‘I love you’ before quickly hanging up, as if he didn’t think she’d reciprocate. She tells herself that she’ll make sure Conner understand that he’s loved once they finish caring for his friend.

Tim’s face had been blank when he’d been half dragged into the Kent house and dropped into a kitchen chair. He hadn’t moved since then, though he now had a knitted quilt around his shoulders and a collection of undrunk cups of tea before him. His expression remained about the same as he stares off into space with grief and guilt written all over his face. He could be feeling bad for forgetting the rather important date, for letting other things become important. Or perhaps, deep down, he felt a sense of guilt that he wasn’t as sad as he ought to be because it’s awfully hard to miss people you hardly knew. But it isn’t her place to speculate on the mind of a teenage boy, so she stands off to the side and watches Conner float awkwardly around him. It’s a hard lesson to learn that not every problem can be solved with super strength, but she thinks Conner’s care  will make up for it. In this difficult time, what Tim needs is the reassurance that there are still people who care.

XxX

The seventh time she met Tim Drake, it’s nearly midnight and Conner is dying. The other kids on his team are huddled over an unconscious Superboy in her living room; Clark is pacing anxiously back and forth in the other room while Batman delicately picks out the miniscule shards of kryptonite from the boy’s back. And in the middle of all this, she’s still in her nightie and curlers. She’d only gotten scattered pieces of what had happened, but she’d heard that one of Luther’s robots had exploded and Conner had instinctively covered Robin who’d been closest to the blast. Tim is leaning over the back of the couch. He’s watching every move the Batman makes and she knows it’s not just because he’s worried but also just in case he ever has to perform such an operation himself. His whole form is taunt, his breathing shallow as they all sit and watch Batman work. The poor boy is probably blaming himself for what happened, though no one else does, least of all Conner.

If the Dark Knight was fazed by his captive audience, he doesn’t show it. He just continues to steadily throw bits of that blasted rock that had dared to hurt one of her boys into a lead lined box. Eventually though, the man stands up and proclaims that all the pieces have been removed and that Conner will be fine. There are cheers of relief as the blonde girl, Cassie, leans her head up against Conner’s leg while Bart sits gently on the floor so not to disturb the patient. Tim is still hovering protectively over the couch, not even looking up when Batman announces that he’s returning to Gotham. No one asks Tim, or any of the Team, to leave their friend’s side. Martha falls asleep in the armchair, along with the rest of the kids who were curled in various places around the couch. Only later does she learn that Tim had stayed up all night keeping an eye on Conner and was the first to greet him when he awoke at 4 the next morning.

XxX

The twelfth time she met Tim Drake; he’s worn down by exhaustion and trouble at home and had been sent to Kent Farm to recover. He slumps in his chair, complaining that people are overreacting and telling anyone who’ll listen that he’s fine, really. No one talks of the dark bruises which stand out starkly against his pale, drawn face or the way he anxiously can’t stop toying with the cookie in front of him until it’s nothing but crumbs. No one mentions his distracted mutterings or the way he keeps glancing over his shoulder as if expecting some sort of monster to be lying in wait. Instead, Conner races him down to pond and they play as boys ought to until it gets too dark to see and they come back soaking wet and covered in mud. Tim helps with Conner’s chores, they sneakily climb the neighbor’s apple tree, they offer to help her with dinner until they cause such a mess she throws them out.

Martha pretends not to hear the boys talking until the late hours of the night through the thin walls of the house. The too loud chatter is occasionally followed by a companionable silence before they start back up on which supervillain has the weirdest gimmick. Tim must have been exhausted come morning but it’s hard to tell through his smile. By the time the long weekend is over, Tim seems brighter and healthier when his handsome older brother comes to pick him up. Martha watches from the porch as Tim and Conner say their good byes and make plans for their next meeting. They smile and touch so casually, as comfortable with each other as lovers. She thinks they look good together, that they could have something nice should they ever decide to go that route. But so long as Conner will be there to help Tim when he stumbles and Tim can keep up Conner’s spirits, there’s nothing wrong with what they have. Love is love, no matter the form.

XxX

The twenty-first time Martha Kent met Tim Drake is for Conner’s prom and, to her surprise, Tim is not his date. Conner has recently started seeing another member of his team, Wonder Girl, and the two of them are dressing up for the Smallville High Junior Prom. Tim has been dragged along to help them get ready and even Martha knows that the situation is strange. Conner is cautious and uncomfortable around his date, trying his best to do right by Cassie and coming across as awkward. But around Tim, he’s relaxed and self-assured, interacting with the other boy as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Martha thinks that most women would be more bothered by Conner’s actions but the blonde must be used to this behavior by now. After all, anyone who wants to be involved in Conner Kent’s life needs to leave plenty of room for Tim Drake.

So Tim dutifully straightens Conner’s tie and soothes his fears that he’s going to mess everything up. He compliments the young lady and takes some photographs of the couple. Martha and he wave from the porch as the kids head off to their dance. For a moment she thinks of asking Tim if he wished he were going in Cassie’s place, dressed in a nice suit and hanging onto Conner’s arm. But Tim seems quietly content as he looks through the pictures, still smiling slightly over some comment Conner made before they left. There is no jealousy, no anger on his face. Conner and Cassie make a nice couple together and it’s clear that Tim wishes them nothing but happiness. Because Tim has his own special love with Conner, one that won’t be invalidated by something as small as a High School Prom. Martha smiles to herself and thinks of how lucky her boy is to have a friend like Tim Drake.

XxX

The thirty-ninth time Martha Kent met Tim Drake, he’s standing on her front porch with a lost, empty look on his face. Conner has been dead for two months now. She thought she would handle it better after that time with Clark but the hurt is just as cutting. Now the most important person in his life is standing at her doorstep, she lets him in without a word. He’s lost a good amount of weight, she can tell that immediately. His hair is longer too, as if he didn’t care any longer to maintain his usual orderly look. He looks worse than all those other times he showed up at the farm for a rest, only, this time, there’s no Superboy here to help him put the pieces back together.

“Sorry to stop by unannounced Mrs. Kent. I just wanted to check up on you, see how you were doing.” He says dully, the unspoken  _'it’s what Conner would want’_ hanging limply in the air between them. But she knows that’s not the only reason he’s here. The boy never had a proper mother growing up and guiding troubled young superheroes seems to be a talent of hers.

“Oh please Tim, you know you’re welcome anytime.” She hushes as she pushes him gently down into a chair and begins making some tea. “It’s lovely to see you; I’ve missed having you kids running around. This farm hasn’t been this quiet in years.” Tim seems to fold in on himself so Martha gives him a few minutes while she finishes the tea. “And how are you doing, dear? I’ve been awfully worried about you.” She begins cautiously as she puts the cup in front of him and takes a seat herself. She wonders how to explain that Clark and Dick and even Bruce have all mentioned that Tim has been reckless and distant since Conner’s death and she knew more people are gone now too. Sitting here, watching him stare into the tea, she wonders if it’s even possible to continue on after all he’s been through. “Tim, honey?” She asks after almost ten minutes pass without a word said.

“I miss him Mrs. Kent,” Tim finally says softly, gripping the mug with such intensity she’s surprised it doesn’t shatter. “I put so much of myself into him. I told him things I never told anyone else, trusted him even more than I did Batman. I didn’t realize at first, he just made it so easy to open up and expose all my broken parts.” Tim’s head drops but she can hear him fighting back tears. “He was the Boy of Steel, he could handle anything. I figured if there was one person I could count on not to leave, it would be him.”

Martha stood and walked over to him, putting her hands on his tense shoulders as they shake and shudder. “But now he’s gone and he took all those things with him. Everyone tells me that I need to let go, move on, but I don’t know if I can. I feel like I’ve lost half of myself, it’s like learning how to breathe all over again. I just don’t-” He chokes out, setting down the mug before tightly gripping his shirt over his heart. She kneels down to the floor and pulls his head into her chest, rocking him and running her fingers through his tangled hair as he finally expressed the emotions she knows he’s been locking up.

His cries are soft and raw, quiet in a way that says he’s still insecure about his relationships with others and anguished enough to tell Martha that Tim Drake would never fully recover from this. He would continue on with his life, he would even smile again, but he would never be the same. They sit in the kitchen like that for a long time, Tim’s head buried in her shoulder and her soothing him with quiet assurances. She’s known since the first day Tim showed up in her house that he was the best thing that had ever happened to Conner, a friend, partner and soulmate all wrapped into one big hearted package. She must wonder though, as Tim quiets down and he lets out a defeated little sigh, if Tim would have been better off without Conner.

XxX

The forty-forth time Martha Kent met Tim Drake, he is grinning. Conner is back now, through some strange future mumbo she doesn’t care to understand but it doesn’t matter. All she knows it that her boy is home at last and she couldn’t be happier. He’s talking to Clark now, the two of them excitedly going back and forth about some alien something or other. The conversation is just pretense though; they’re really just reveling in each other’s company after so long apart. Tim is on Conner’s other side, smiling as well. He’s put on some more weight but his eyes still maintain that haunted quality. His hair is still long but its being better managed. Overall he looks so much better, but he holds himself with a new weight. Even his smile, always small and special, feel restrained. All except for when he dares glance over at Conner and all those bitter edges turn soft.

Tim adds onto whatever conversation Clark and Conner are having. Conner smiles at the comment, giving Tim a long happy look that reminds her that it’s been just as long since he saw his best friend. Somewhat hidden between their two bodies, Tim and Conner are holding hands. Martha smiles as her three boys continue to talk back and forth about things she doesn’t understand and she chastises herself for her earlier doubt. Love is never a bad thing, no matter how long or short it may be. Love is taking someone in whatever form, be it a friend, a teammate, or a partner, just so that you can have them in your life. Love will be with Tim Drake and Conner Kent always, an unbreakable bond that would last wherever they were, no matter what they did. Love is two lonely boys who found the world in each other and would always be happy with the other in it.


	26. Deathstroke Delivers Some Truths

“Can’t this thing go any faster?” Batman,  _Bruce_ , chastises in a very rare loss of composure in the cowl. Tim shifts slightly in the seat beside him, he’s been the one who’s been toying with the jet to increase speed and efficiency so the comment really was directed at him.

“We’re going as fast as we can given the size and weight of the ship,” he responds lightly. “We’re going to get him back B, you know how tough Wing is.”

“That doesn’t mean I want to leave him in the hands of that lunatic for any longer than necessary,” Bruce grounds out turning to glare at his middle son. “You don’t understand what Deathstroke is capable of Tim, the Titans have only gotten a taste of what that man can do, and he’s had Dick for  _hours_.” Even Tim, who’s well-practiced at the art of ignoring Batman’s glares, shrinks a bit under the force of this one.

“Alright, I know it’s good fun to beat up the kid but lighten up B.” Jason says from the back, giving Bruce’s chair a kick to stop his lecturing. “Besides, we all know that Slade is super in love with Dickie Bird and won’t touch a hair on his head, it’s been that way since _I_  wore short pants.” Jay shrugs as we went back to lounging in the back seat, completely unworried. He bets by the time they get there, Dick will have already beaten Deathstroke and be waiting for pick-up.

“Nightwing took several bad hits before he was taken,” Damian interjects, about as edgy as Hood was calm. He’d been unable to stop his partner from being viciously beaten nor stop his kidnapping. If something happened to Grayson he would never forgive himself. “And it’s unwise to underestimate Deathstroke. Even my Grandfather holds him in high regard which goes to show how cunning and skilled he is. He must be if he gives Grayson such a difficult time.”

“It’ll be fine,” Tim concludes quietly, “Dick is tough and has handled Deathstroke before. Besides he has all of us there to back him up if need be.”

“Amen to that Little Red,” Hood says cheerfully. “And look at that, it seems we’re coming up on Wing’s location.” Batman takes over manual control of the plane, as the tracking device in Dick’s suit alerts them that they’re nearing their destination. He rolls in shoulders in preparation of, what he hopes, is a brutal brawl.  

“Oh man, what is going on down there?” Tim mutters quietly as he looks out the window. Immediately Dami looks out his while Hood unbuckles from his seat and crowds over Damian.

“What the hell?” Jason mutters as they fly over a deserted beach and see Deathstroke and Nightwing, sitting on the sand seemingly without care. “What are you doing Dick?” He asks to himself as B, observing their reactions, brings the plane down into a dive and lands in a rough, but still passable manner just a few hundred yards from where Dick and Deathstroke were sitting.

“Be prepared for anything,” Batman growls as he throws off his seatbelt and makes last second additions to his belt. “Deathstroke is known for his unpredictability but priority one is getting Nightwing out safely.“ He continues curtly before stalking off the plane, completely forgoing any attempt at stealth. Deathstroke was changing the rules, the usual techniques no longer applied.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Wayne,” Deathstroke says once the four Bats are in ear shot, “and Mr. Todd-Wayne, Mr. Drake-Wayne and the young Mr. Wayne as well. Lovely day out isn’t it?” Slade is methodically sharpening a collection of knives on the beach, not even in a threatening manner, just in a professional, casual way.

“What have you done to Nightwing?” Batman barks, taking a few more steps closer but the knife Slade is sharpening comes up and the Bat halts. They stay that way for a moment before Slade goes back to his task.

“We’re just talking, nothing big, just normal stuff.” And true to form, Dick doesn’t look to be in any harm. The injuries from earlier appear to have been attended to, his belt and gloves are not on him but laid to the side about a foot away. Other than that, he’s just sitting there with a relaxed look on his face. “He was a bit of trouble when I was patching up his injuries so I gave him a muscle relaxant. He’s a little less chatty than normal but still perfectly aware of what’s going on.”

“Let him go Deathstroke, you’re through hurting him.” Robin spits out, running forward to attack the assassin only to be stopped in his tracks by both Batman and Hood grabbing at his shoulders.

“Hurt him?” Deathstroke says innocently, “I would never dream of hurting him. Look at him boy, does he look hurt to you?” Damian’s face draws up into a sneer but the man continues. “Have I not treated his injuries? Brought him to a relaxing location to put his busy mind and body at ease? He’s not even bound, should he wish to leave, he could have done so at any time.” Through the black and orange mask, they could feel him smiling. “In fact, the ones who regularly hurt him have just interrupted our little chat.”

“You dirty liar,” Damian hisses, squirming and kicking but the elder Bats held on firm as much as they wanted to rush into the assassin. Whatever this was, it was new and they couldn’t just dive in and risk setting whatever trap Slade had set.

“Guys relax, it’s okay,” Dick says suddenly from his spot in the sand, looking a bit dazed but there wasn’t any fear or anger in his tone. “We were just talking.”

“You see?” Deathstroke nods, lightly gesturing to Dick with his knife. “We’ve been having a great conversation. Dick’s told me some stories from his time in the circus, we compared training regimes, I even shared with him one of my prized slow cooker recipes. Just guy talk.”

“The hell are you up to?” Hood demands, debating if he should let the brat go at it so they could end whatever the hell was happening.

“I just decided to switch things up a bit, thanks to you Timothy.” Slade says gently with a nod in the direction of Red Robin. “The Titans stole two of my children from me, when Rose finally betrayed me, the Robin at the time commented how they always turned because I never treated them with the love and respect they needed. I never gave them a reason to stay.”

“Rose and Joey left you because you were a manipulative, abusive asshole and talking recipes isn’t going to change that, or make Dick want to stay with you.” Red Robin answers sternly, feeling a bit uncomfortable at the silent accusations coming from his team.

“Oh I agree. After all, what kind of father would take a young, vulnerable child who’s already suffered enough to last a lifetime and put them in a costume and throw them out into the rough, unrelenting world of capes and criminals.” Batman tenses up, “now that sounds pretty abusive to me, I think Dick agrees too.”

“You don’t-” Batman starts before he is cut off.

“Of course if I’d treated Joey or Rose with more respect, allowed them to grow on their own instead of confining them to my side, forcing them to aid in my growth and progression while denying them their own, they might have stayed. They might not have run off to join the Teen Titans or anywhere really just to get away from their cruel, merciless father who can’t see beyond the mission.” Dick’s eyes narrow on Bruce as Deathstroke keeps talking and even the other Bats are side-eyeing their mentor. It’s one thing to live through it, another to have it stated so plainly.

“Maybe if Joey and Rose got on better it would have been different as well,” the assassin sighs. “I was an only child so I can’t imagine the heartache siblings would cause. Reckless younger brothers who refuse to listen, taking advantage of the older sibling’s good will and cheer and use and abuse him for their own purposes. No wonder the children left me.” There’s more wincing from the Bats and Deathstroke can only smile. That’s enough for one day, the seeds have been planted, not just in Grayson but in all of them. He bets by the end of the year, Dick will be on the outs with his supposed family again and maybe, just maybe, might end up on his doorstep. He sets down the knife and begins packing up.

“Well it has been an illuminating talk but Dick here probably does need his rest and I’m sure you’re all tired from the rather bruising battle this morning. Why don’t you take him back home and we’ll fight it out again some other time?” He leans over and pats Dick’s knee. “Time to go, your weapons are to your right. I’m sure your family will take the very best care of you, after all, they don’t want to follow my example now would they?” Deathstroke carefully gets to his feet. “It’s been a pleasure as always, safe flight home.” And with that, he picks up the bag at his feet and begins to walk away from the small, tense group.

Damian wriggles out of his captors’ grasp and runs over to his brother. He kneels down and gently pats the older man to assess for any unknown injuries. He is surprised and more than a little hurt when Dick brushes his hands aside.

“I’m fine,” the acrobat says, struggling to his feet. “The relaxant is wearing off, I can walk on my own.” He continues in a quiet monotone, walking silently past Damian and the others to get back onto the plane.

“Dick,” Bruce says calmly, reaching out a hand to his oldest. “You know what he’s trying to do. He’s trying to put cracks in our infrastructure, to plant doubt and conflict in an attempt to draw you onto his side. You know he’s just saying those things to manipulate you.” Dick frowns and steps out of the reach of Bruce’s hand.

“Yeah, I know he is but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t bring up valid points. I just,” the man sighes, feeling far older than his 25 years. “I just need some time to think.” With that, he walks silently onto the plane and the Bats exchange worried looks with one another. This was going to be a long, awkward flight back to Gotham.


	27. Wayne Girls AU: Lesson One, Just Be Yourself. Lesson Two, Forget Lesson One

“Don’t stand like that,” Jack Drake said in a quiet, irritated voice out of the corner of his mouth while Dana was on the other side of the kitchen putting away leftovers. Tabitha looked over at her father in confusion as she set down the dish she was drying.

“Like what, Daddy?”

“Like you’re about to punch some hopped up junkie drug lord out,” he responded harshly, taking a moment to frown at her in a way he probably thought was intimidating but she’d learned to weather _Batman’s_  disappointment so it was lukewarm at best. Still, she mentally assessed her position and posture. Had the reveal and forced retirement of her cape caused her to slip into fight mode even at home? Her shoulders were back, she was comfortably balanced with one hip jutting slightly off to the side. True, she could be battle ready in moments but she didn’t feel like Robin right now. She felt just like Tabitha Janette Drake, as much as she knew who that was nowadays.

“I’m just standing here, I’m not-” she defended

“Are you two keeping secrets from me?” Dana teased from across the room causing her and Dad to freeze but Dana seemed oblivious to the palpable tension. “Well I think it’s great the two of you are connecting, I’ll be watching TV in the living room when you’re done conspiring.” She added with a wink before leaving the kitchen entirely. Tabitha wrung out the semi-wet dishcloth, trying to figure out how to navigate this awkward situation. Robin training didn’t cover ‘how to cool your parent’s jets about your vigilantism’ if only because pretty much everyone else was an orphan. Dad sighed roughly, rubbing his eyes with one hand while the other braced on the counter.

“Honey, we’ve talked about this.”

“I don’t know what I’m doing wrong,” she frowned back, putting her hands on her hips. “All I’m doing is washing the dishes; you’re the one making this weird.”

“No,  _this_  is what I’m talking about,” Dad said, angrily gesturing over at her. “You never used to do this before, you never used to-,” he stopped suddenly, pressing his lips together into a hard line.

“Never used to what?” Tabitha asked with annoyance.

“You never used to talk back to me like this,” he said finally. “Before, before  _Wayne_  you used to respect me. It was always ‘Yes, Daddy’ or ‘sorry Daddy’ and you were my perfect little princess. And now, now you’ve got scars and muscles and you’re looking at me like you’re contemplating the best way to crush my windpipe.”

“Daddy, that’s not even close to true,” Tabitha soothed, holding up her hands.

“See?” He gestured back, “Even my name doesn’t sound sincere, it just sounds fake. Everything you’ve been doing since I found out has seemed fake.”

“That’s because it is fake,  _Dad_ , it was all just an act to get you off my back,” she snapped before retreating back, demurely crossing her arms over her chest. So much for Father-Daughter bonding time. “I- you and mom didn’t want a scientist or president or, god forbid, a fighter. You wanted a princess and so I played the part, it began long before I approached Bruce and then it became a convenient way to divert suspicion about what I was doing.”

“What? So you faked your entire personality? Jesus Tabitha,” Dad laughed, leaning back against the counter and running his hand through his hair. “I feel like I don’t even know who you are anymore!”

“Well you never even bothered to learn about me in the first place, just as long as I was sweet and pretty and compliant you let me do just about whatever I wanted,” Tabitha shot back.

“That’s not true,” Dad retorted.

“Did you know I used to sneak out late at night and take pictures of Batman and Robin throughout Gotham when I was eight? I caught a plane to San Francisco when I was trying to convince Dick to become Robin again, used your credit card and everything. I’ve come home with everything from split lips to broken bones but as long as I covered it with enough make-up and charm, you didn’t notice. You were too busy chasing after your physical therapist.”

“Tabitha Drake that is uncalled for, you apologize right this minute,” Dad growled, putting his finger in her face. In the past, Beth would have simply lowered her eyes, said what her dad wanted to hear and that would have been the end of it. But now that he’s in on the big secret, taken Robin from along with all her friends, confidence and independence, she’s grown tired of all the deception. She looked him in the eye and gently but firmly brushed aside his patronizing finger.

“You’re right, I’m sorry, Dana is the best thing that could have happened to you but my other points remain,” she said resolutely. “You’re my dadd- my dad, I love you very much but this is who I am, who I’ve always been. It’s true I like sundresses and cute things but I also like punk music, skateboarding and putting together puzzles. Did you know I’m considered one the best bo staff users in the League and people look to me for answers and help. I understand why you don’t like me being Robin but I feel like I was doing something meaningful with my life, I felt like I was finally  _me_.”

“No,” Dad laughed dismissively. “That’s Wayne talking, he turned you into this. You might _think_  you like all this fighting and other nonsense but I know men like Wayne, they make manipulating sweet young girls like you into an art form.” He set his hands on her shoulders, “and now that I’ve gotten you out, you’ll see. You’ll go back to being my little princess and forget all about this nightmare.”

“Oh what, you think you saved me?” Tabitha spat, “like I was some damsel in distress? I was doing just fine before you decided being Robin was ruining my life.”

“You’re just a child, Tabitha, you don’t know what you want and don’t act like I’m some raging misogynist here to crush your dreams,” Dad rolled his eyes. “I’ve always supported women’s lib, your mother was tough as nails and Dana is smarter than me any day of the week. You’ve got to learn being a strong woman doesn’t mean you have to be, well, strong.”

“Because you’d prefer being the strong one in any relationship, usurping Mom’s family company and running it into the ground, pursuing Dana until she caved to your advances. You just want to control me like you have all the other women in your life,” Beth sneered, knowing she was going too far but when one truth came out, the rest tended to come along for the ride.

She saw it in his eyes, in his body language before he even started to move. It began with the twist of his back as his arm came up, preparing to strike her. Time seemed to slow down. She’s stunned in a way, her parents may have been negligent but they’d never raised a hand to her. True, she’d never spoken like this before but it’s still a bit terrifying in its own way. Had he ever hit Mom? Or Dana? Was he going to try and hit her anytime she said something he disagreed with? The open hand approached her and she watched it with detachment, as if it was a scene from a bad movie instead of her life.

She supposed she could let it connect, god knows she’s taken far worse hits. Maybe hitting her would release some of the tension and things could go back to normal. The thought startled her enough that pretty soon her instincts cut through the fog of her emotions and reacted. Her hand darted out and expertly struck his elbow, throwing off his momentum and allowing her to easily grasp his wrist before he managed to slap her. She could easily subdue him from this position but this was  _her Dad_  and instead she locked herself before she really hurt him. For a second, they stared at each other with matching looks of horror over what they’d each almost done.

“Are you guys still whispering in there?” Dana called from the other room and the spell was broken. Tabitha’s grasp slackened and Dad pulled his hand away and held it against his chest.

“Oh god Tabitha, I’m, shit, I’m so sorry I don’t what came over me, I- you know I would never hurt you, right baby?” Dad babbled, looking sad and pathetic. The hand that had almost slapped her said otherwise but she decided she’s spilled enough ugly truths tonight. She pulled the curtain closed around her heart and started in on damage control.

“I’m sorry too Daddy; I said some things I shouldn’t have,” she said, lowering her head and playing lightly with her fingers. “Is your wrist okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, quite a grip you have there, Tabby Cat,” and that brought a small smile to her face. He hasn’t called her that in years, hardly anyone called her Tabby anymore. It’s a childish name for someone who punched out people’s teeth on a nightly basis but she liked hearing it none the less. It felt a little bit like normal, even the fabricated normal she’d learned to live with. “And Tabitha, don’t- don’t act like that.”

“Like what?”

“You’ve got to stop pretending, baby girl,” he sighed and turned away from her. “I’m clearly not as good a parent as I thought I was, letting you live this whole other life behind my back. I’ll do better to get to know the real you if you stop hiding behind this imagined person you think I want you to be. Just be yourself, that’s all I want. Now that this Robin nonsense is over with, we have a chance to start over.”

“And what if you don’t like the real me?” she asked quietly.

“Oh I will, I’m sure,” he mumbled before twisting his mouth and looking away. “Come on, Dana’s waiting on us,” Dad said sternly before shoving his hands in his pockets and stalking out of the kitchen. He’d never been much of a liar preferring to ignore and redirect. Her mother had been great at it, telling bold deceptions with a sweet smile. Tabitha wondered if Dad saw Mom in her or if he saw something else entirely. 

Either way, the full truth wasn’t going to do this family any good. Dad was already strained by recent revelations, her constant mouthing off and bossiness would be the final nail in the coffin of their relationship. Bruce and Rachel would give anything to have their fathers here, alive and worried about them, she should make more of an effort to get along. He doesn’t like this new, confident, domineering Beth and he’s seen through her saccharine pretend Tabby so perhaps something in the middle.

She’ll exchange ‘Dad’ for ‘Daddy’ and tone down the sweet, submissive innocence she’s used to sprinkling around him. It’s not quite the real Tabitha who swears like a sailor and can fit 8 marshmallows in her mouth and orders adults and metas around with the expectation of being obeyed but it’s close enough. Well not really but if she’s lying to everyone else she might as well lie to herself.

“Tab, are you almost done in there? Bring out some ice cream when you come,” Dana’s voice carried from the living room.

“Sure Dana,” Tabitha smiled a sweet smile that would fool almost anyone, and set out to do what her stepmother asked. It was what a good daughter did after all.

 

 


	28. Earth 3 AU

Beware the Court of Owls. It used to be a nursery rhyme in Gotham, something whispered to children at night to frighten them and keep them out of trouble. A silly fairy tale written off by the simple-minded citizens of Gotham City. And it was true. Over the years, the Court has always operated from the shadows, never letting so much as a bit of their shadow be seen. The only mark they left upon the world was a children’s story, carefully designed to lull the unsuspecting public into blissful ignorance while also sending them a warning.

But those were the old days, before the heads of the Wayne family were brutally gunned by a rival gang leaving their only son an embittered orphan. That was before the Court took pity on the clever but directionless boy and took him into their ranks, taming and training. Everything was different when, at a startling 22 years of age, Bruce Wayne took down the hierarchy of the Court and established himself as the new head. Because when he did, he decided to take the Court in a new direction, instead of using soft coercions and quiet killings to rule Gotham, Wayne decided to openly and viciously declare war on crime that had stolen his parents from him. And he didn’t do it alone.

“I don’t know what kind of hold he has on you kids, but you don’t have to stay with him.” Harleen ‘Harley’ Quinzel whispered to the shadows where she knew some of Owlman’s young protégés were hiding. Her husband was against the violence and open crime committed by the Owls and the corrupt police force, they worked together with other like-minded individuals to bring down the Crime Syndicate and all that they stood for. Owlman was currently chasing after her husband, the Jokester, while his children watched over her. They all knew no matter how far the Jokester ran from the Owl, her puddin’ loved her and would always come back for her.

“Look, I know he’s your father, if not in blood than in love. I know he gave you food and shelter and a feeling of worth, but what he’s made you kids into,” her face twisted in anguish. “It’s wrong, no matter what his beliefs are, you don’t send your children out to kill.”

“We weren’t forced into anything, we’re here because we believe in Owlman and what he stands for. Because we will save Gotham City,” Nightwing said, slinking out of the shadows and putting a knife under her chin. “Even if we have to kill her first to do it.” He finished with a wicked grin.

“Don’t tease her Wing,” Black Talon said, still hanging back in the darkness. “Owlman told us to keep her unharmed for now. We may need her alive later to draw out the Joker.” Harley remembered when Black Talon had just been Talon, just a young, intelligent boy caught up in the murderous ways of Gotham’s most terrifying criminal. She made the mistake once of thinking she could persuade the boy over to the side of light with some chemicals and electroshock therapy and the retaliation from the Owls had nearly killed her.

“Oh you're so boring BT,” Nightwing joked, teasingly playing with the razor edge of the knife along the soft, vulnerable skin of her throat. “You used to be so much more fun before you got involved in the business end of things. At least Owlgirl and our new Talon know how to have a good time. Did I tell you how lil T took out that little uprising Penguin concocted? Owlman sure gave him an education, much better than his goodie-two-shoes Mother and Grandfather ever did.”

“You mean philanthropist al Ghul’s grandson,” Harley whispered. “The one who was supposed to bring you down from the inside, the one who was supposed to save us from your wrath before you twisted and corrupted him.” She screamed as Nightwing growled and roughly forced her head back exposing her throat. He bared his teeth at her as he dug his knife deep enough to draw blood.

“We may have orders to keep you alive, but that doesn’t mean I have to listen to your drivel. Because the more you talk, the more I’m reminded how kidnapped and tried to brainwash Black Talon, how you helped hide my youngest brother from my family and tried to use him against us.” He tugged her head back harder until it felt like her spine was going to break. “Or how you and your worthless clown of a husband tried to “save” my little brother and ended up getting him killed in an explosion.“ He said sharply before wrenching for head back into position.

"You are lucky al Ghul was dumb enough to think bringing him back to life would be enough incentive to trade sides, or that Hood has claimed you two for himself.” Nightwing smiled, an ugly, wretched little smile that scared her more than all the threats. How could he possibly interact with people in the day time? How could people not look at him and see the monster inside of him? “Or the Court would have dealt would have dealt with you long ago.” His clawed gloves raked across her head in an almost gentle manner before leaving her side completely to go over and talk to Black Talon about something or other. For a moment, listening to the two brother’s converse, they almost sounded human.

She sat there shaking, silent tears rolling down her cheeks as her fear and adrenaline overwhelmed her. No matter how many times it seems she ended up in this situation, interacting with the Owls, with these demons with childish faces, was always terrifying. Because it never seemed to end, Owlman and his children, not to mention all of the Crime Syndicate, had such a fearsome grip on the entire world. Their skill and power to deliver death and destruction was astounding.

She knows that they can’t give up, they need to release Gotham City, the universe, from the reign of these superhuman devils who decided to run the world in their own cruel fashion. It made her long for her childhood, when her mother would teasingly tell her stories of the Court of Owls. As she sits and waits for someone to save her, she remembers a time when the Court was nothing other than a scary bedtime story. A time when children weren’t recruited as killers and one could believe in a world where heroes existed.


	29. Fluffy Timkon

They really ought to do this more often, Kon thinks as he watches the sun rise from Ma’s kitchen. God knows Tim needed more breaks before he actually collapsed but even Conner had been feeling a little run down lately. He breathes in the cool, early morning farm air and smell of Tim’s paint peeling coffee brewing on the counter top and decides that this is the best way to start a three day weekend.

Of course, it would have been better to have stayed cuddled up with his disaster of a boyfriend where they’d fallen asleep on the couch last night but the chores had to be done. Vacation or not, no way in hell could Conner ignore them else he’d listening to Ma shuffling around to get them done herself. He fully admits he can be a jerk, but that’s like,  _Luthor-level_  jerkiness right there.

He’s already got big plans for the day: take a leisurely walk to the Farmer’s Market, with stops at secluded little spots for some kisses, to get Ma’s groceries. After that, he was thinking of bumming about, maybe going swimming for a bit in the lake. Then the local Drive-in was having a sci-fi marathon so he was gonna take Tim to dinner then head to that. All in all, he thinks that sounds like the perfect day and his boyfriend should be grateful he has such a kind and considerate clone boy.

If only the damn idiot would wake up. How much sleep does a little guy like him need? He fell asleep about 20 minutes into the new superhero movie last night and hasn’t moved since then. Kon shakes his head, this is what he gets for involving himself with a Bat. He hears Tim stirring before he sees him, giving Kon the time to pour the obnoxiously strong coffee into Tim’s personal mug and have it ready by the time the boy staggers in.

“Coffee?” Tim mumbles sleepily, his eyes still half closed and one hand awkward scratching his messy hair into an even messier state. Sometimes Conner can’t stand how goddamn cute that boy is. Instead of sweeping Tim up into his arms like he wants to, he pulls out the chair next to him and watches as Tim sort of falls into it. “Thanks,” Tim says quietly, reaching around on the table until he finds his coffee and drags it toward him like it holds all of life’s answers.

“Good morning to you too babe,” Kon says, leaning in to deposit a kiss on Tim’s temple. Tim hums and leans slightly into Conner’s shoulder. “Did you sleep well?”

“Mornin’” Tim mumbles back, partially muffled by Conner’s shirt. “Better than I ‘ave in a month,” Tim responds, trying to bring it up to his mouth. Kon watches with affection because the way Tim is leaning into his shoulder, there's no way he could drink the coffee.

“That’s great Tim, I guess you needed it.” With his free hand he reaches up and stops the disjointed path of the coffee cup. “And if you want the coffee, you’re going to have to sit up properly. So do you want to lay on my shoulder or do you want your coffee?” He asks patiently as Tim just moans lightly into his shoulder but makes no move to change positions. So cuddle time it is. He plucks the cup from Tim’s pliant hands and sets it back on the table, taking a moment to reposition Tim so he’s more comfortably settled. He sighs lightly with contentment.

“You smell nice, like sunshine,” Tim mutters quietly and Kon nods at the astute observation, not even bothering to keep the grin off his face. Sleepy Tim is always the greatest, even surpassing _‘I’ve had three shots of tequila and I’m going to say everything I’m thinking’_  Tim.

“Really? And what does sunshine smell like? Can we bottle it and make a zillion dollars on cologne? 'You too can harness the sun’s power.’” He teases, if Tim was more awake, he’s sure that’d earn him a dry look but Tim’s currently too busy trying to nuzzle further into his shoulder.

“Smells like comfort, like that feeling when you come into a warm house after being out in the cold. You smells like home.” Conner blinks and looks down at Tim as it felt like the sun was bursting in his chest. That was… really sweet, especially from Tim who can be about as a romantic as a rock most days. He leans his cheek down so it was brushing against the top of Tim’s head.

“Thanks Tim, you smell like home too.” He says even though judging by Tim’s breathing and heart rate, he's already asleep again. But that's alright, as long as Tim is happy and they were together then everything would be good for Conner. Ma wouldn’t mind if they left a little later than planned to get her groceries. Yea, they really should do this more often.


	30. Wayne Girls AU: Overprotective Damian

“Where’s your little bodyguard?” Wally asks as he finishes his fries and Roy’s while he’s at it. Roy hovers protectively over his remaining fries but Wally is fast and pretty soon they’re all gone. The Archer glares sourly over his plate while Rachel takes a bite out of her pizza, her fries unguarded. Wally had tried to steal her food in the past but he learned pretty quick that Bat instinct trumps speed anytime.

“What do ya mean?” She asks through a mouthful of hot pizza. She’s currently in Star City, in Roy’s small but cozy apartment. Roy and Wally are on opposite ends of the couch with her sandwiched in between the two, her torso leaning up against Roy with her feet sprawled in Wally’s lap. She was taking the night off, she’s been tired and overworked and went to hang out with her favorite guys. It had been forever since they’d hung out and it wasn’t the end of the world. Plus Wally gave the best foot massages and did mama ever need that.

“The short angry kid that follows you around like a duckling.” Roy responds as he flips through the channels, looking for something interesting. “It seems like wherever you are these days, he’s right there with you.” Rachel snorts and squirms against Roy until she’s more comfortable, as always, he changes positions to suit her.

“You mean Damian? He’s just a little lost and I do not take him everywhere guys.”

“You bring him to every League Meeting, even the ones that say no sidekicks allowed," Wally notes

“He’s not my sidekick, he’s my partner and I’m trying to build trust with him and make him feel included.” She takes another bite of pizza, “plus you know the only reason for the ‘sidekick free’ meetings is so the League can talk smack about us.”

“Every time you’re caught on camera outside the Manor, you’re dragging him someplace,” Roy adds.

“Ok, first of all, creeper for stalking me via the paparazzi and Dami usually is curious about where I’m going so he asks to tag along.”

“You brought him to my kids’ birthday parties,” Wally grumbles and Rachel just kicks at him until he starts working his magic on her feet.

“Lian’s too," Roy responds dryly.

“Ok? So, what’s your point, I brought him to kids parties. He is a kid you know.”

“He’s Batman’s freaky assassin kid who’s like half in love with you.” Wally says with an eye roll and is rewarded with Rach bringing her knee lightly into face.

“Come on, he’s come really far and I’m very proud of him. And you’re wrong about him being in love with me, he’s always going on about how he barely tolerates me and I was simply the most tolerable choice for Batman.” Both boys raise their eyebrows and glance at each other over Rachel’s shoulder.

“You are blind girlfriend," Wally adds as Roy nods sagely and continues.

"Clark gave you a one-armed hug at the last meeting and I saw your little demon pull out a knife the size of his arm and threaten big blue with it.”

“What?” Rachel demands, throwing her head back to look up at Roy. “That’s crazy, he told me he was using the restroom. He had to know a knife won’t do anything to Clark anyway.” The archer gave her a pointed look.

“No, but he did say that it would hurt Lois if Supes so much as laid a finger on "his partner” again. I think Clark would have been cooing over his protectiveness if he hadn’t been legitimately concerned for his family’s safety.“

"Oh God,” Rachel says putting her head in her hands. “He doesn’t understand, he’s still trying to learn what it means not to be beaten and abused every day under the guise of training. I’ll talk to him when I get back. God, I thought he’d be happy to be rid of me for a night.”

“I can’t believe he even let you go.” Rachel feels her phone buzz in her pocket and she fishes it out and views the incoming text messages. Her brow furrows. “Did you even tell him where you were going?”

“Yeah I said I was coming here, hold on,” She says distractedly as she dials a number on her phone. “Hey Alfred, what do you mean he’s  _gone_? It’s not a patrol night, he should have been in bed hours ago.” She says forcefully as she gracefully pulls herself off the couch and begins pacing. “Well he’s gone out on his own before, is his uniform missing? What about his bike?” Her eyebrows go up as she listens on the other end. “ _The Plane_? Does he even know how to fly that? Hell, can you pull up the coordinates and find out where he is? I can pull in some people to find him if he’s not close.” While she was talking, the doorbell rings. Roy sighs as he stands up to answer it.

“That must be the other pizzas we ordered, I guess it’ll have to be to go since we’re apparently demon hunting tonight.” He says and Wally chuckles but Rachel glares at them and pulls the phone away from her.

“This is serious guys, he could be anywhere,” she exclaims going back to her conversation with the butler. Roy rolls his eyes as he opens the door, surprised to find a decided lack of pizza. He brings his eyes downward and mentally berates himself for not seeing this coming. Crazy Bats.

“Rach,” he shouts grabbing his friends’ attention. “You can call off the search party.” He continues dryly as Damian Wayne pushes past him to enter the room. His form is rigid until his eyes land on Rachel who is staring at him with a dumbfounded expression. He sets his hands on his hips, still in the pajamas she had gotten him into before she left.

“You were gone for long I was worried you not be coming back. I assumed you were in danger and decided to come and find you.” He gives a disgusted glances around the apartment, “it seems once again you find yourself in poor company, luckily I am here to help with that.”


	31. Joker and Harley kept Joker Jr

“Do you have visual on the culprits Nightwing?” Bruce’s gravelly voice says through his earpiece. Dick isn’t really listening though, he’s sitting on a rooftop in the pouring rain, looking in through a skylight at the scene below. The small part of his brain that still clings to sanity tells him he shouldn’t look anymore but the rest of him can’t bring himself to lower the binoculars. He can’t turn away from this monster he helped created.

“Dick?” Barbara’s voice asks quietly on the comm which causes brings him back to reality. He’s still angry at Bruce, probably always will be, but Babs… he can’t ignore her, not after everything that happened.

“Yeah, I’ve got visual on our robbers. We’ve got clowns, three of them.” He mutters back as he finally,  _finally_ , puts down his binoculars. “The whole family out on a trip.” He whispers softly to himself, hoping the others can’t hear him. This is going to be hard enough without him bringing morale down. Barbara whimpers into the comm before silencing herself and Bruce, well of course Bruce can’t be bothered with something as trivial as emotion.

“W-what do you think they’re after?” Batgirl says after she takes a moment to collect herself.

“The Museum of Art is hosting a gem exhibit, including the recently returned Harlequinn diamond which has been on tour abroad for the past year.” Batman supplies mechanically. “Harley’s already made one attempt on it several years before, it seems she’s going after it again.”

“Right, what’s the plan? How are we going to do this?” Nightwing asks because someone has to. “We go in, throw around some quips, knock some heads but then what? What are we going to do about  _him_?” He hisses, turning away from the scene.

“We can’t help him unless he’s willing to accept our help,” Batman responds harshly. “Until that time, we will treat him just like any other criminal.” He says as he readies his equipment to jump down and break up the robbery.

“Oh yeah cause he’s just like every other criminal,” Nightwing bites back bitterly as he readies himself to strike. He knows there’s no point in arguing with the Bat over this and they’re going to need all their wits about them. “Ready when you are B.” He says listlessly, firing his grapple and follows Batman as he smashes through the glass.

“Freeze, Joker,” Batman says frostily, straightening himself up to his full height as he looms over Joker and Harley and the ghastly grinning child between them, a ghost of better times. Joker grins widely and comically searches the area.

“Freeze? Why I don’t see Victor around anywhere, just me, the old lady and junior here.” He reaches into his jacket and pulls out a gun. “And of course I never leave home without ole Uncle Smith here.” He laughs, firing the shots wildly, forcing Batman to duck and retreat while Harley grabs the child’s hand and runs down a long hallway while the Bat is distracted.

“It’s over Harley,” Batgirl growls, dropping in front of them. “Please give me an excuse to beat you into a coma.” She hisses out while Nightwing settles behind the pair, cutting off their escape. Harley makes a face.

“Mommy doesn’t have time for this,” She pulls a gun out of her purse and drops it into the boy’s hands. “Sweetie, take care of this for me while I get to work.” She says sweetly, gently patting the boy’s dyed green hair before sprinting around Batgirl.

“Hey,” Barbara barks, turning to grab Harley when a bullet into her left arm put her onto the ground. She cries out and grips her wounded arm as Joker Junior stumbles forward with that same crazed, empty look and painful grin he always seems to wear. The wound in her arm is nothing compared to the wound in her soul looking at the blank stare of the boy who was practically her little brother.

“Tim, please,” she says pitifully as Joker Junior walks forward, aiming the gun directly at her head. Nightwing darts forward to intervene but she held up her hand. “We can help you Tim, we can help you heal from everything they did. We can save you Timmy please.” She says as tears prickle in the corner of her eyes watching as the boy steps forward until the barrel of the gun knocks against her forehead.

Tim isn’t even looking at her; wide unfocused eyes just staring listlessly as he chuckles quietly under his breath. His finger twitches on the trigger before Nightwing steps forward, grabbing the gun away with one hand and knocking him out with the other. He catches Tim in a muddled heap, gingerly lowering his brother to the ground. He takes a moment to grimace unhappily at what had become to Tim as he combs his gloved hand through the boy's unnaturally colored hair. If only he’d been there, been a better brother…

“Dick,” she whispers softly putting her hands on her boyfriend’s shoulders. “We’ll get there. He only grazed me, he could have killed me while I was distracted but he didn’t. We’re getting through to him, slowly but surely. We just need to keep supporting him, loving him, so that he can find his way back to us one day.” Dick’s face contorts into barely controlled pain before leaning down and kissing Tim’s pale, chalky skin.

“Just hang in there Little Wing, we’ll make this right again. I promise.” They sit there in silence until Batman appears before them with a dark, snarling expression on his face.

“We need to leave, Joker and Harley have been neutralized and the police will be here soon.” Nightwing glances down at the blood staining his mentor’s gloves. “They’re alive.” Batman grinds out, “but just barely.” He says, his voice rough like crushed glass. His whole demeanor changes when his eyes fall on Tim, the anger leaking out of his face as he leans down and scoops the unconscious boy back into his arms.

“I’ll take him back to Arkham; Leslie has been doing weekly sessions with him and she said they’d been making progress. Hopefully this hasn’t set him back too far.” He whispers softly into Tim’s green hair. Nightwing and Batgirl exchange a look before backing up.

“We’ll finish the patrol for the night B; you just get him back safely.” Barbara says, grabbing Nightwing’s hand and pulling him away from the grieving parent. “Let him know that we love him.” Bruce nods and lets himself hold his boy close, pretending that none of this awful mess had happened, that Tim was still bright and sarcastic and full of life.

“He knows that Batgirl, somewhere deep in his mind, he knows.”


	32. Isolation AU: Men Cannot Fly (But Bats Can)

You only hear about the Bats but you never got to see them. 

Most days, people didn’t think they were real, merely a myth propagated by the Gotham police department to scare off the more superstitious of criminals. Many people in the League didn’t even believe, laughing off rumors with a wry shake of their head. 

“As if a vigilante could be active, much less a whole group, without us knowing about it. We keep track of all super-powered individuals.” A few, not many, posed the idea that these Bats didn’t use powers for their crime-fighting. That always got a laugh. Gotham was an ugly town with known meta villains. Sure, there was Green Arrow in Star City and the old timer Wildcat to trot out when anyone accused the League of being over-powered. But it’s not as if mere humans could possibly make a difference on the battlefields that evolved following the advent of superheroes. Or so everyone thought.

Clark himself could never feel convinced. He’d met some terrifying humans in his life, both in and out of costume and no one could deny that _someone_  was keeping Gotham in check. So many times he’d hear screams and terror and be halfway to the city only for the chaos to suddenly quiet down. The police officially took credit but no one missed the arrival of a specialized signal on top of their headquarters. Of course, no comment was made. 

He doesn’t really have an excuse why he’s here now. He’s got one ear cocked in the direction of Metropolis, ready to speed back the moment he’s needed. So why is he spending a blissful moment of free time hovering miles above Gotham City? Maybe he’s just curious about all the rumors circling. Maybe he’s looking to recruit this Bat Man. Maybe he wants to know if it is possible for a man to fly without the aid of super powers. Before he can second guess, he gently floats past the border of Bludhaven and into Gotham proper where few heroes have tread before. 

Clark looks around hesitantly before floating forward. He’s Superman, the Man of Steel, a spooky, dirty city shouldn’t frighten him. And yet there’s a tenseness to the city that puts him on edge. It takes him way too long to realize it’s because he’s being watched. He turns and catches a shadow ducking quickly behind a building. Clark races forward but no one is there. The hairs on the back of his neck tingle because something isn’t adding up.

He can hear a child’s laughter, muffled and quiet but the footsteps are difficult to ascertain. There’s the swish of a cape but no sound of a heartbeat. Clark spins around and there’s another light laughter, more feminine this time before their presence is also erased, but not entirely. He’s so thrown off, he’s had enemies turn invisible before but he’s never seen it done like this.

“Is someone there?” He questions, turning around again and is greeted only by shadows but he feels, even if he can’t see, the eyes in them. He uses his xray vision, sweeping across the landscape and comes up with nothing, but then who are these tittering children he keeps on hearing? Coming to Gotham was a mistake, he realizes quite suddenly. This isn’t the world he knows, these people don’t obey the laws he’s become comfortable with: the bounds of magic, the physics of the speedforce, the technology of the lantern ring. These Bats are a world all their own. 

He flips around, prepared to fly out of the city and finds himself face to face with a boy perched atop a gargoyle. Clark stumbles back mid-air and the young man, barely a teenager if he had to guess, smiles. The boy is practically invisible to him, his heartbeat silenced by armor, the lead built into it preventing him from seeing underneath. The long dark cape and muted reds, golds and greens help him blend effortlessly into the landscape. It’s hard to believe he’s really there. And then the boy lets out the breath he’s obvious been holding, it’s been almost five minutes has he been doing that all this time, and suddenly he comes to life.

“What’s a super man like you doing in a place like this?” The kid quips, his voice pitched low to blend effortlessly with the wind. Other than his quiet breathing, the lightly swishing cape and the minute creaks in his costume, he barely makes a sound.

“I was looking for you,” Clark says, floating forward a little. The kid straightens a bit but otherwise holds his ground. “I’ve heard rumors about vigilantes in the city, I wanted to see if it was true.”

“And now that you’ve found me?” The kid asks with an amused tilt to his head. 

“Well uh the Justice League is always accepting new members,” he says before he can stop himself. There’s normally a vigorous vetting process before any prospective hero is even considered for membership but if the past few minutes is anything to go by, these Bats would be an incredible asset to the League, to the world.

“Right because we’re clearly after the kind of attention the Justice League brings,” the kid adds with a sarcastic lilt as he stands up and walks to the bitter edge of the gargoyle. Clark automatically holds his hands out in case the lad falls but he seems perfectly balanced. “We have enough work here, we don’t need supers telling what we can and can’t do. We protect Gotham, you protect the world, easy enough.”

“But you can do so much more,” Clark tries again and the boy’s face loses some of it’s stoniness.

“I’ve been talking to the Boss Man but he’s pretty stubborn. I’m not opposed to stepping outside city limits but well, B’s all I got and so I play by his rules, for now at least.” The boy winks at him before stepping back, the heels of his feet hanging over the dark city that looks eager to claim him.

“If you’re playing by his rules, then why are you talking to me,” Clark can’t help but question. The boy grins wider.

“Who says I’m not talking to you under orders,” with that, the boy lets gravity grab a hold of his body and pull him off the gargoyle. He hangs there for a moment in perfect freefall before his cape flairs and a line whizzes out, allowing him to swing to safety. A cheerful little whoop is the only indication that he’s anything other than a large bird, native only to Gotham. As he stares after the boy, a shadow dislodges from atop nearby building out of the corner of his eye. He sees a feminine figure with long hair step out into the pale moonlight, illuminating a yellow bat on her chest. She salutes before copying the boy before her, falling and then flying by way of a grappling hook. 

A third shadow appears, taller and more solid than the others. He’s tall, almost as tall as Clark himself but not nearly as broad. The dark cape cover most of his body and, like the others, he barely makes any sound. There’s no lighthearted quips, no approval in his gaze. He only pulls out his grappling guns and follows after his children? his apprentices? leaving Clark all alone and wondering if the last few minutes are nothing more than an impossible dream created from the smog. 

Either way, Clark’s time in Gotham has ended. He can hear the screech of fire trucks back home and there’s a palpable tension that says his presence is no longer welcomed. So he quickly flies past the boundaries and races back to a world where things make sense, where children don’t run around in capes and humans don’t fly. He slows, just for a moment in his flight as he thinks. Ordinary men and women don’t fly, that is true, but heroes do. He thinks he’s taken the first tentative steps in breaking the Bats’ self-induced isolation. Maybe one day, he’ll stand alongside the Bat Man, share his secrets, call him friend.

Until then, Clark will harbor this little meeting all to himself. After all, according to most people, there are no vigilantes in Gotham City and that’s just how her heroes like it.


	33. Timkon: Piece by Piece

Superboy fell in love with Timothy Drake piece by piece before he ever knew what love was. To him there was never really anyone else, Robin had simply been there, cared when no one else would and Conner’s entire concept of love was based solely around Tim.

It started with insecure, friendly smiles in Mount Justice, with the uncomfortable realization that he had more in common with Batman’s genius protégé than he’d initially thought. There were gentle words assuring Superboy of his humanity, of his worth and affectionate touches to the hands or shoulder. Long explanations on history or culture or personal events, lovingly explained to the new clone without a trace of superiority. Anger and frustration at Bart, Cassie, Batman, himself most of all, sometimes that anger was directed at the clone but it never hurt the way Superman did.

It continues with stupid fights, arguing over petty power struggles and places on the team. Robin nursing wounded flesh and broken bones but still taking the time to ask after the near invulnerable boy’s health. Tears and fears of death or life, after death was certain and was suddenly revoked leaving the boys stranded in a life they thought lost. But heartache made them stronger and somehow, in the middle of the collapse and implosion of Young Justice, Conner realizes that he cannot imagine life without that idiot Robin around. As friend or rival or teammate, he was always there and Superboy takes the moment to truly appreciate him.

It grows as Superboy himself does, becoming Conner Kent in addition to the Superboy. He lives on a farm and goes to school when he has to but he never forgets Robin. The slow growing love was found in exchanged texts half a continent away after Conner finally got a phone, hiding the exchanges behind the backs of their respective parents and mentors. It flourished during sunny San Francisco days spent kicking bad guy butt, his best friend at his back and was tempered by more pointless arguing, done because neither refuse to address the real problems in their lives. There are more gentle touches, innocent, well-meaning brushes of skin and gloves and clothes to convey something deeper than either understood.

It even develops as Conner kisses Cassie for the first, second, fiftieth, one hundredth time. He loves Cassie, he truly, truly does. He loves her hair and her smile and her strength and her brightness. But she is his sun, the one he wants to be with when he’s happy; he can never bring himself to tell her his troubles or thoughts or go beyond the picturesque daydream of their relationship. He smiles with Cassie and unloads on Tim, telling the human all his fears and wishes which are validated with a small, understanding smile. Cassie yells at him, why doesn’t he talk to  _her_? He tells her he loves her but now Cassie is crying and saying it isn’t love if he only gives her a small portion of his heart. He tells her she’s wrong and then goes to talk to Tim.

Conner gets his first flush of realization on a mission, an ordinary one. There’s explosions and cursing villains and everything is loud and deafening in his ears. And then Robin is in his face, his mask all scrunched up in concern and everything fades. The whole world narrows in on Tim’s concern, his pounding heartrate, fast and fragile like a bird’s, and the gloved hand resting on Conner’s chest. The moment end and the sounds return but it sticks out in Conner’s mind as something special in a way he can’t describe. He can’t talk to Cassie. They are having troubles in their on-again, off-again relationship and he hates what that conflict has done to them. He misses being her friend. Conner settles on Bart and, completely out of character, the speedster smiles in a knowing way and runs off without a word.

It grows and grows without any further revelation until he reaches his last breath. As his life flashes before him following his battle with Superboy Prime, he is surprised by how Tim pervades every moment of his life and memories. Even during the times when the other boy wasn’t around, his words or his explanations or his stupid sense of caring hang over Conner's bitterly short life. He finds himself wishing suddenly and painfully to see Tim right then, more than Ma or Clark or Cassie. He loves them all and always will but none of them have ever been there for him like Tim was. Tim who showed him how to skateboard and sewed up his t-shirts on away missions and pushed Conner into a lake one time and cried for hours on his shoulder when his dad died.  Robin entered his life uneventfully but, piece by piece, became Conner’s everything. Out of the corner of his hazy vision, he catches a glimpse of red, yellow and green. His last act is to reach for those achingly familiar colors that are always too far away.

Conner doesn’t remember coming back to life or breathing again after centuries of stillness and death. The first thing he properly remembers in the medical ward in the 31st century is an old, old memory of Tim sitting with Conner on the roof of Ma Kent’s barn. Tim is talking about his parents, the loneliness of his childhood, the guilt of being Robin behind their backs. He asked Conner if there was anything he’d go back and change, if he could. Conner had said something stupid, of course, but at the time he couldn’t think of one thing he’d like to fix. Now lying on a bed, a long ways away from his home, he cries silently and regrets never telling Tim that everything Conner was, wanted to be, was because of Tim. He’s given the opportunity to go back to his time and takes it without a second thought.

A thousand variations of their reunion fluttered through Conner’s head as he flew to Tim’s last reported sighting. He imagined Tim breaking face, being all gross and teary and blubbery as he breaks character and hugs him. He wonders if Tim will be angry for leaving everyone behind and refuse to speak to him. He briefly contemplates sweeping the bird off his feet and planting a big wet one on him, but decides that might be for later. He isn’t expecting what he finds: Tim slightly taller and definitely more muscular in a costume that reminds him of everything wrong about Batman. Even his heart sounds different, no longer the fluttery little birds heart, so strong and brave despite his fears but the steady, resolute beat of a man willing to do anything for his beliefs. He feels like a stranger and Tim’s weak attempts to pretend things are normal feel like such a betrayal to the friendship they once had, to the person Tim used to be.

As weeks and months pass, Conner learns the events that broke and reshaped his best friend into this cold, dark person. He feels anger like he’s never known  to think of how unfairly Tim was treated in his absence. Tim, who gave more than anyone should be expected and who would light himself on fire to keep his friends warm, was let down by those he trusted. Pushed and pushed to be better despite the hurt only to be kicked to curb when Batman’s kid showed up and demanded the Robin costume. He’ll never forget the feeling when he saw Tim shirtless for the first time afterwards. His eyes darted from one new scar to another, each one bad enough to have taken Tim away for good. His fingers had reached out to the large one across Tim’s abdomen from his emergency splenectomy. Instead he turns around and goes to vomit in the nearest restroom. He asks Clark about why he, or any of the League, didn’t do anything to help. Conner hears weak excuses about Tim being strong enough to handle it. He slams the door to Clark’s apartment so hard it breaks when he storms out.

Despite the guilt, Conner still feels a sense of loss and betrayal over Tim’s transformation. He’d survived death and future only to come back and find his rock and his lifeline has been twisted beyond recognition. It’s rude and unfair but he feels it anyway. But then there’s a moment, they’re going over a case and Conner makes the obligatory stupid comment and Tim reciprocates and his mouth does this dumb thing that’s almost a smile and everything is good. Once he starts looking, he finds all sorts of Old Tim buried inside this New Tim that comes out at odds moments. There are even new habits there that are so endearingly  _Tim_  that he finds himself liking them anyway. Once upon a time, Tim had wormed his way into his clone heart and now, despite everything, he does it all over again one broken piece at a time

New Tim doesn’t smile much anymore, not counting those fakey smiles he gives on TV. Old Tim was always a little sleep deprived but New Tim takes it to an unhealthy extreme. New Tim is both stronger and scarier than ever before but it seems Conner is the only one who notices that Tim is like glass, right on the edge of shattering completely. Conner wants to help this Tim, this unhappy mix of New and Old, but he doesn’t know how. So he goes back to the start. Delicate touches, stupid jokes and stupider arguments, long, detailed explanations on his feelings of the  _Wendy_  reboot and how his History teacher is a crank. There are friendly smiles, understanding eyes and an open ear to all the burdens this new boy has to bear; offered freely just as Tim had done for him years ago. There are too many nights spent listening to Tim rant and rave about the injustices done to him; holding back his too long hair as he gets sick recalling painful memories and too many nights all of Conner’s efforts seem hopeless.

But then the smiles begin to come back, slowly but surely, those small, little Robin smiles that makes Conner’s heart leap. Friendly touches get returned, hesitantly at first but soon Tim’s hands on his back or shoulder becomes familiar. Tim lays out his troubles and listens as Conner absorbs and repeats back that those things shouldn’t have happened and by _God_  does Tim look so relieved and vulnerable in that moment. Conner pulls his boy close, bringing his big arms around Tim’s tiny body and squeezes him as hard as he dares. The air is electric and this is the time in any normal movie the hero would say _I love you_  and sexy shenanigans would ensue. But Tim turns to look up at him with big, watery eyes and it’s written all over his face, no words needed. Conner brings his head down until their foreheads are nearly touching. Piece by piece they fell in love, little things adding up into big things becoming something bigger than they’ll ever be able to describe. So they decide to leave all words behind and just appreciate how much bigger and better the world is to have the other in it.

 

 


	34. Bruce is Exposed to Joker Venom

Everything was bright, too bright. Bruce growled through the stretching grin on his face and swiped at the bright light. He was Batman, he needed the dark, it was the only place he could really exist. Ha, that was funny. Everything was funny in this topsy-turvy, too bright, too painful world.

 _Stop_ , the fading rational part of his mind cautioned. He knew he should slow down and keep the venom from spreading so fast but the larger part of himself was drowning in hate and madness and a laughter that never stops. His ribs aching from the forced chuckling and his mind was bursting from sensory overload. 

He saw movement out of the corner of his eye and he lashed out instinctively, his large hands grabbing something small and skinny. A neck, perfect for strangling. Now  _that_  was funny. He laughed heartily as he squeezed that vulnerable flesh. There was noise around him, screaming or was it more laughter?  but he ignored to squeeze harder. Something sharp buried itself in his arm but pain couldn’t touch him now. All that mattered was the flesh and slowed, dying movements beneath his fingers.

Something knocked him sideways, a powerful blow to the head. Just when he thought his head couldn’t hurt anymore but more importantly he lost track of the supple neck. He reached for something else to grab and squeeze the life out of. Something to squeeze and squeeze until it popped in a burst of red and white goo. He laughed at the imagery, as he staggered shakily to his feet. There were moving shapes in front of him but he couldn’t tell one from another. They were all monsters, gaping mouths and glittering claws, sparking with hellflame. 

He opened his mouth to scream to their unholy song and could only laugh instead. 

There was something sharp and stinging in his chest, a small pinprick of fire being injected into his veins. He howled merrily and threw off his demonic attacker. He reached out to grab them with the full intention of breaking them bit by bit, pulling them apart like a child’s toy when there was another shape in the way. There was a face directly in front of him, wide eyes and and a wider mouth. It was saying something but all he could hear was a loud roaring ocean, sloshing through his mind, taking away everything but the punchline. 

Because there had to be a joke, they were all laughing at him and he was laughing at them. He couldn’t seem to stop, even though he wanted to but the laughter just kept coming to droves so obviously something was funny. Maybe it was him, maybe he was the joke. Maybe he needed to kill them to get the answer. He smacked the face away with all his strength and was pleased to see it fall limply to the ground. 

A flash of yellow and lightening was run through him. He danced and jolted as his skin crackles and his eyes burned. His mind went dark and he vaguely registered hitting the ground. It hurts, not as much as the lingering electricity in his bones, not as much as the laughter in and around him. He thrashed, trying to strike back at his attackers but his arms and legs are held down by weight. His face was peeled off by a monster and they screamed directly at him, searing into his soul. Something sharp was in his neck and suddenly things don’t seem as funny anymore. 

He took a deep gasping breath for the first time in years as the laughter finally abated. His lungs were on fire, every inch of his body ached, his head felt like pearls in an alleyway. He moaned, there was something there, something important but he couldn’t wrap his mind around it right now. Like a radio dial slowly being turned up, the world around him came into focus.

“-another dose-”

“-the hell do we d-”

“-fred, may need to sedate him ag-”

“never seen it this bad befo-”

“Hang on Bruce, we’ve got you,” one particular demon, who may or may not be a child or a partner or a friend or a lover, says. Bruce, right, that’s his name isn’t it? Inch by inch he relaxed as the darkness on the edge of his vision crept closer. He didn’t know what was going on or where he was or who these people were but something told him that they were trustworthy. Even if they weren’t, he knew intimately that he would rather die by their hand than enact any further further violence on them. With that last thought, he fell into the abyss. 


	35. Bart Helps Kon Deal with Bad Blood

“Why does it bug you so much to be related to Lex,” Bart asked out of the blue one early Sunday morning at the Tower. They were the only awake to watch the sunrise, Kon having just come back from chores in Smallville and Bart because well speedsters can never really slow down enough to get a solid 8 hours.

“Bwah,” Kon said intelligently, completely thrown by the question. Bart kept playing on his handheld game and never looked up. “He’s a bad guy,” he continued once he got his brain together.

“So? Just because he is doesn’t mean you are,” Bart shrugged.

“Superman doesn’t trust me,” Kon retorted.

“I hate to break it you broski, but Big Blue has always been weird around you and it was long before this Luthor thing went down,” Bart hummed, finally putting down his game. 

“I hurt you guys,” Kon croaked out, folding his legs up against his chest and burying his face in his lap. “I broke Tim’s arm, I was choking Cassie.”

“That sucked man but that wasn’t you, that was the dirtbag controlling you. It happens to the best of us, we’ve all got our own freaky mind control stories. You’re not special, especially not in having bad blood.”

“What?” Kon asked, pulling himself out of his pity to look at his friend.

“My mother was a Thawne,” Bart stated.

“Am i supposed to know that name?” Kon drawled.

“Eobard Thawne was the Reverse Flash, he’s my ancestor, somewhere in there,” Bart explained, waving his hand. “It’s half the reason my speed is so unique, I have two different speed forces in my blood.”

“Woah dude,” Kon said softly, floating closer to Bart’s level. “I had no idea.”

“That’s because I never brought it up cause it’s not a big deal. My mom isn’t a bad person, neither were any other people on that side of the family, just him,” Bart looked at him with as serious a face as Kon has ever seen on him outside a life or death battle. “The Flashes got their own beef with me and it’s  _not_  because of my bloodline. Supes shouldn’t judge you on and neither should you.”

“But-”

“Okay, how about this, am I a bad guy, Conner? Ya gonna put me in cold restraints and lock me in Iron Heights in case I decide to kill all the Flashes?” Bart asked.

“What, no, what the hell, of course not!” Kon defended.

“Then we’re not gonna drop you ‘cause of your dad,” Bart went back to his game. “You’re our bud, you’ve been our bud for years. We love you, Kon and we trust you. Trust yourself a little bit and let us help you.”

“Oh,” Kon said, dropping down until he was on the floor next to Bart. He alternated between watching his friend kick butt on his game to watching the sun spill over the horizon and light up San Francisco. He felt a little better surprisingly, lighter since Tim had officially confirmed his secret parentage. He felt less like a Super, less like a Luthor and more like plain ole Superboy.

“Thanks Imp,” he muttered, slumping a bit onto his friend’s shoulder. “I should have come to you instead of going to Tim.”

“You should have but I understand since you’re pretty gay for Tim,” Bart smiled.

“God his eyelashes, Bart, I can’t stop looking at them. Half the time I want to peel off that stupid domino and look those pretty steel blue eyes through those thick, luscious lashes,” Kon moaned.

“Sorry bud, I can help with bad DNA but I can’t do a thing about your massive crush.”


	36. Alfred and Jason Bond

“Young Master Jason, what are you doing?” Alfred asks in surprise as he holds the flashlight up higher to ensure he was actually seeing things correctly. But yes, that indeed was the Young Master, changed into his pajamas from his costume, holding a bucket of soapy water and a rag. Alfred looks at the clock, it’s approaching 4 am; the lad should have been in bed hours before, Master Bruce had tucked him in himself.

“A-Alfie,” the boy jolts guiltily, his eyes quickly darting around as if looking for an exit. “I didn’t think you were awake.”

“I wasn’t, I thought I heard a noise,” Alfred says smoothly, tucking the loaded shotgun as inconspicuously as he could into the folds of his dressing gown. “More importantly, what on Earth are you doing down here at such an hour. You’ve got school in the morning, young man.”

“I uh,” Young Jason averts his eyes and adjusts his hold on the bucket he’s carrying. “I was cleaning, I guess.”

“Cleaning,” Alfred says dryly, “in the middle of the night.”

“It’s true,” Young Jason says stubbornly with a defiant tilt of his chin. “I ain’t lying, look!” He gestures with one gloved hand – his Robin gloves, Master Bruce won’t care for that at all – towards the entryway floor which is wet and streaked with half dried soap.

“I’m saying I don’t believe you but  _why_  exactly are you cleaning the floor in the middle of the night?” He asks patiently. So that’s the source of the mysterious streaks and stains on the floor, the curiously low supplies and the exhausted slump in the Young Master’s shoulders as of late.

“I’m helping,” Young Jason replies earnestly before ducking his head so his unruly curls cover his eyes. “You and B won’t let me help in the day time so I figured I’d do it now. I just, I gotta do somethin’. You do so much and I wanted to try and make it easier on you. You guys have been so good to me and I ain’t the kind of person to take things for granted so I’m just trying to do my part, you know?”

“Yes, I think I do,” Alfred says with a fond sigh. How ever did Master Bruce find such a kind-hearted boy on Gotham’s cold streets? How lucky they were that he had. “I can’t say I condone your late night escapades but if you truly wish to be involved in the upkeep of the Manor, I’m sure we can come to an arrangement.”

“Really?” Young Jason visibly brightens at this, standing up straighter and sloshing some of the sudsy water in his bucket onto the floor. Oh well, that was tomorrow’s problem.

“Yes really, now come along son. Just set all that down and we’ll get you back to bed. We can talk about this at a more decent hour,” he says, guiding Young Jason with the flickering candle in his hand.

“I’ll clean this up in the morning,” the boy replies, eagerly following after him, “I promise.”

“Of that I have little doubt,” Alfred smiles.

“By the way, does B know you have that,” Young Jason asks, nodding to the still concealed shotgun he’s holding in his opposite hand.

“He does. The Master and I have, let me say,  _differing_  views on home security. He does not approve but he allows it, mostly because he is aware that I do not necessarily need this weapon to disarm an intruder.” They’ve arrived at the young man’s room and yet the boy makes no move to enter, instead staring up at him with wide eyes.

“Wow, okay so like has anyone ever told you that you’re a total badass?” He asks with a wide grin.

“Not in so many words, but yes,” Alfred replies with a humble smile. “Now off to bed, you have a full day of school tomorrow.”

“And cleaning!” Young Jason says as he jumps onto his bed, wasting no time in snuggling in.

“And cleaning,” Alfred confirms, shutting the door. He thinks it would be nice to have a cleaning partner to talk to in the long afternoons. He thinks he would enjoy any time spent with the Manor’s newest resident. “Good night, my boy. Pleasant dreams.”

XxX

Alfred comes one afternoon home from his chores to a clean floor.

He pauses in the entryway, trying to recall if he’d cleaned the floors before he’d left but no, he always does that on Wednesdays. He frowns, the curtains had been pressed two Thursdays past, the pictures dusted last Sunday and the front hedges trimmed just yesterday. He’s reviewed the security footage perhaps a dozen times and has been unable to find any sign of an intruder.

He wonders if he’s finally going mad. Well no sense brooding about it here in the entrance. He walks forward into the kitchen with his armful of groceries, his memories inexplicably drawn to Young Master Jason, years and years before, assisting cheerfully with simple household chores. How the lad had smiled at the chance to help out. But of course, many things have changed since then.

Alfred steps into the kitchen and halts again as his eyes catch on subtle shifts in the kitchen since he’d left. The cooking knives are arranged differently and the cutting board is drying by the sink; there’s a heat in the air that suggests the oven had very recently been used.

But who? Young Master Tim was no chef, Miss Gordon was busy with Cassandra and her team and Master Bruce wouldn’t bother. He spies a note on the refrigerator and hurriedly drops his groceries on the counter to retrieve it. It’s a list of simple instructions for reheating a beef brisket and potatoes in the fridge. He doesn’t need to open the door to know that meal will be sitting there, wrapped and waiting.

But it’s not the surprise meal that steals his breath away; it’s the small, tidy handwriting on the note.  _‘Don’t let the moody idiot overwork you. We need you to take care of yourself’._ The note isn’t signed, but it doesn’t need to be.

He stands there for a long while, staring at that neat script until it’s obscured by the gathering tears in his eyes. Alfred smiles and presses the note briefly to his chest before tucking it into his pocket for safekeeping. Maybe things haven’t changed as much as he’d feared.

Master Bruce commends him for the dinner that night, going into detail about the rich flavors of the meat. Alfred accepts the compliments but makes a note to ask the true chef for the recipe at a later date. He has no qualms, keeping this little arrangement a secret. It would undoubtedly stop should he breathe a word to another in the family and Master Bruce doesn’t need to know everything.

This was something special, a secret shared between him and his grandson, once lost but who still might find his way home.


	37. Tim Teaches Cass and Jay ASL

“I have no idea what I’m supposed to be doing.”

“So it's no different from any other time then.”

“You know I still haven’t decided if I’m gonna kill you or not, Replacement,” Jason muttered to himself as he continued pouring over the dozen or so books in front of him. “You’re only here ‘cause I need you, you little wimp.” He looked back and forth from his book to his hands with an annoyed expression. “Why do you even know sign language anyhow?”

“I had a lonely childhood and a lot of time on my hands,” Tim responded simply motioning appropriately with his hands as he spoke. His movements were slow and jerky from lack of practice but he didn’t think Jason would notice much less mind. Using ASL was nostalgic, honed years before out of desire to express himself during the times his parents demanded he be silent. How many dinners and parties did he wile away, signing quietly to himself as he told his parents all the things he dare not speak aloud? Tim brushed aside the bitter memory, his skills were going to finally be put to use today not just to connect with Jason but to help with Cassandra. The girl was sitting across from him, staring intently first at his hands then up to his face as if that would help her make sense of his seemingly random movements.

“You think this is really gonna help her?” Jason asked, gesturing to the dozens of books they’d gathered from who knows where. Knowing B, he probably had these books from when he decided to master sign in-between training with Tibetan monks and learning to swallow swords or something. Jason, Tim had decided once the older vigilante had stopped actively trying to kill him, was quite a softie. You could scream and yell and demand all you wanted at the Red Hood, but the second you ask for his help dealing with an abuse victim with learning differences he trucked over to Wayne Manor with only a little grumbling. It probably helped that Bruce was currently fighting some sort of space amoeba straight out of Star Trek on the outer edges of the galaxy. But they were making progress bit by bit; you just needed to know how to speak his language. Speaking of which…

“David Cain didn’t allow Cass to speak during her formative years; he trained her brain to respond to body language instead of sounds and words.” Tim said, talking to Jason but directly facing the latest Batgirl so she could watch his slow, deliberate motions. “She knows some words and she’s capable of learning but given her background I thought a method of communicating using visuals and physical activity might help bridge the gap. ASL is much simpler than English, there are no participles or rules and their exceptions, just quickly getting the point across.” Cass’s dark brown eyes continued to study him, she was hard to read but he was getting better. If he was correct, she looked pretty intrigued and excited at the thought of being able to speak in a way that suited her.

“The offer’s still open girl,” Jason said darkly, his eyes taking on a distinctly menacing light reminding Tim just how tenuous this truce with Jason was. “I don’t care how many guards they got at Blackgate; I will get in there and end that abusive bastard for what he did to you.” Most days he was still under the influence of the Lazarus Pit and wouldn’t hesitate to kill any of them; Tim had happened to catch him on one of his better days but he didn’t count on that lasting. Cass pouted sternly and reached forward to flick Jason right between the eyes,  _stop that_ , she said without words. Jay rubbed at his forehead but the threatening air between them had lightened.

“It’s not that hard to learn,” Tim added on hastily as he tried to steer the conversation away from revenge. “It just takes practice and patience.”

“Yeah,  _that’s_  something I have in spades, how can you learn a language that relies on motion from words?” Jason grumbled as he slammed his book close. Cassandra reached over and lightly her hand on top of his, she gave him and smile and a half shrug.

“What is that even supposed to mean?” Jason asked with mounting frustration, “none of this makes sense, how am I supposed to learn something I can’t read?”

“Hey, stop and relax.” Tim said calmly, “stop trying to force understanding, ASL isn’t about translation; it’s about conveying information easily and efficiently.” He held up a hand with his little and index finger plus his thumb extended. “Take this, do you know what this conveys?”

“Rock on?” Jason asked tiredly as he copied the gesture. In the middle, Cass also held up her hand the same way so the three of them sat on the floor like that staring at each other. Tim felt distinctly awkward at how casual and friendly the room felt at that moment.

“It means  _I love you_ ,” Jason made a face and stuffed his hand into his lap in embarrassment. “We take three words to express the feeling of caring for someone. The deaf community can get their point across with a smile and gesture. ASL to English isn’t a literal, binary transition; it’s about what you imply with your motions.”

“Yeah and what am I implying with this?” Jason said bringing up his middle finger and sticking it right in Tim’s face but there was no malice behind the action. In fact, that was just the sort of thing and older brother might do to an annoying younger sibling.

“You’re implying that you’re uncreative and if you really want to offend someone you say this,” Tim added with a smirk as he signed a few things that would have his mother aghast, if she knew the language… and was alive.

“Oh yeah, now we’re talking, we’re gonna corrupt you good Cassie. Bruce is gonna have a cow.” Jason added with a rakish grin as he repeated Tim’s earlier movements. Cass sat between them, following along with their various movements but she kept coming back to the  _I love you_  sign. Tim could say that it was because it was one of the few signs she knew but somehow he felt like it was more than that. 


	38. Reverse Batman AU

“You’re probably wondering why I’ve gathered you all here today,” 12 year old Bruce Wayne announced in that resolute, self-assured way that only a child can be. The team of tired vigilantes exchanged amused glances before going back to patching each other up after a rough patrol. They didn’t mean to end up in the boy billionaire’s orbit but one by one, they’d been drawn in first by Damian’s one man war against crime and stayed because of Bruce’s stubborn resolve to save the world. He financed all of their equipment and Batal had been using the cave system beneath Wayne Manor as his base for the past five years since he’d left the League of Assassins and become Bruce’s “bodyguard”. If the kid wanted to think he was in charge, no one was going to stop him. Besides, it was pretty cute.

“Yeah Boss, we have been wondering,” Jason responded sarcastically but the fondness in his tone was evident. He hadn’t expected to be unofficially taken in by a rich kid he’d been trying to rob nor become a partner to the legendary Batal but he was happy here anyway. Bruce either didn’t notice or ignored Jay’s flippant tone for he pulled himself up onto one of the operating tables so that he could look each of his team in the eye. Those tables were supposed to be for emergency surgery but they mostly ended up being high chairs for their fearless leader.

“With Alfred visiting family in England for the week, it’s up to me to maintain order around here. And I’m worried about how this team is being run. Your hearts are all in the right place but I’m afraid there are some things I can’t let continue.” Bruce said with all the seriousness of a reluctant businessman about to fire someone. Damian most certainly did not look amused as he crossed his arms and stared down at the boy he saved almost five years before.

“And that would be?” He asked as Brown leaned around his muscular arm to beam down at Bruce, probably because she thought his pout was a, how did she call it, ‘Kodak moment’.

“Dick,” Bruce began causing the 14 year old, who was in the middle of end of night stretches, to freeze. “I saw on the cameras you were on your own for exactly 39 minutes tonight and it was almost an hour last week. You’re just starting out; you can’t be without back-up out there. If you can’t follow these instructions, I’m going to have to bench you.”

“Come on B,” Dick moaned, “I’m trained enough; I can do things on my own for five minutes without Batal breathing down my neck.” Damian sniffed, turning his attention onto his latest partner.

“He’s right, you’re still young and you still need constant supervision out there. If you’re not with me or someone else at all times, you’re not out at all.” Dami said sternly while Dick just deflated, there was no arguing with  _Batal Almafquda_  when he was like this. “Good observation Wayne, please continue.”

“Barbara Gordon is still running around as Batgirl,” Bruce continued pulling out a small notepad and going through his notes. “She’s getting better at learning to avoid your patrol routes but I want to put a stop to her activities before she gets hurt. We can’t encourage her behavior, no matter how cute Dick thinks she is.” Dick sputtered in the background but Bruce continued on unperturbed, turning to Jason.

“I’m concerned you’re not taking this seriously Jason,” Jay rolled his eyes as the focus turned to him.

“I’ve been doing this for almost 3 years and I’m 18 so you can’t boss me around kiddo.” He said with a flippant shrug, “I don’t even live here anymore so you can’t hold that over me like ya used to.”

“No but I was here when the Joker kidnapped and tortured you for nearly a week because you hadn’t listened to our warnings about how dangerous he was.” Bruce said with too dark eyes while Jason’s face became blank at the mentioned of his abuse. “I’ve lost enough family and I don’t want to lose any more.” This of course brought all eyes over to Tim, who was glaring at the floor with a stern expression and his fists clenched in stress.

“And what did I do Bruce?” He rasped, trying to get the visions of the sword going through his heart during what should have been a normal patrol out of his head. He recalled the sharp acidic sting of the Pit when Ra’s brought him back to use against Batal. He thought of his short, terrible tenure at the League of Assassins before Damian finally was able to reach through Ra’s brainwashing and allow him to escape. He thinks of his once steel grey-blue eyes that have become stained green, a permanent sign of his failure as a hero. “What other ways did I screw up?”

“You did not eat the fruit roll-up I put in your utility belt,” Bruce replied seriously and the absurdity of the sentence snapped Tim out of his painful reverie. “You haven’t been eating well enough lately; you’ve been working too hard. I told you to eat more fruits and vegetables but you wouldn’t eat the potato chips I gave you and I found the uneaten fruit roll-up still in your belt.” Bruce paused to wag his finger, “this is your last warning Tim or else I’ll make you stay home and let Alfred feed you.” Tim felt a weak laughter bubbling up in his chest not just at Bruce’s naïve earnestness on what counts as a healthy diet but the nonjudgmental care in the younger boy’s eyes.

“Yeah Tim,” Stephanie teased from beside Damian, “eat your fruit roll-up or you’re off the team.”

“Stephanie you need to put more effort into your schoolwork, your English grade dropped to a B- this last quarter.” Bruce added with a disappointed raise of his eyebrow that is entirely inappropriate on a child who still has babyfat in his cheeks.

“I do plenty of studying! My teacher is a shrew and out to get me and why the heck are you looking at my grades you little gremlin?” Stephanie complained, putting her hands on her hips.

“I do it because I care Stephanie and I want you to get a good education so you can get a nice, well-paying job. So bring your grades up or you and Tim will be studying and eating fruit roll-ups together.” Stephanie grumbled while Tim stuck his tongue out at the girl, his earlier melancholy gone in the face of a chance to make fun of one of his best friends.  

“Cassie, you’re doing great as always,” Bruce said with a smile and a nod while Cass smiled back with that special smile she saved only for Bruce. “And lastly, Damian.”

“Yes?” The Arabic man asked, staring down at his employer in name but his child in every way else.

“You’re approaching the 60 hours without sleep which you know results in confusion, lack of concentration as well tremors and slowed reaction times. Alfred usually can get you to see reason but since he’s not here I’m forced to take drastic measures.” Bruce said seriously, letting his words sink in before he held out his arms to be held. “It’s nearly 3am, much later than Alfred lets me stay up. I was placed in your care during his absence so unless you want to deal with his anger, you’d better put me to bed. And I can tell you that I won’t go easily unless you go with me and ensure I sleep the whole night by staying with me.”

Damian stared down in incredulity at the child before him. Was he being guilted and blackmailed into sleeping? But then he noticed Bruce’s pale face and dark circles under his eyes and he remembered that the boy hasn’t slept much since Alfred’s been away. Distance from the butler always made his nightmares that much more potent. This tactic was probably to help him sleep as well as Damian; the older man sighed and rubbed at his eyes. He had a good bit of work still left to do but he was feeling tired and he couldn’t just leave Bruce alone with his demons, threats or no threats.

“Drake, Brown, go over the files we took from Cobblepot’s computers tonight and see if anything sticks out. Cain, please get me that report on Zsasz’s underground fighting ring and then we’ll move in on that. Todd, you’re still on the Falcone murders get me that research but also finish your schoolwork, you’ve got class tomorrow. Grayson and Wayne are going to bed.” Damian announced addressing his team as he stooped down to pick up their little leader. At 12, Bruce was getting to be too big to carry but there were some exceptions when the orphan needed a little extra care. He settled the warm weight against his chest and sighed. “I’ll be going up too. Good patrol but Bruce is right, we are going to be making some changes around here. We can’t allow for any error in our operation, I will not lose any more people.” That said, Damian turned around and stalked up the stairs to Wayne Manor with Dick skipping after him.

“You know you can probably just put him in bed and he won’t notice, you don’t need to sleep with him.” Dick whispered as they passed through the grandfather clock. Bruce was already half asleep in his arms and would likely be completely asleep by the time Damian settled him down.

“We both know he would notice,” Damian responded back, “besides, there’s nothing wrong with giving the children some attention.” He said reaching out to ruffle Dick’s hair. “Now bed or I’ll make you join us. You have school tomorrow as well.”

Bruce sighed sleepily into his shoulder as Dick ran up to the second floor and Damian took a moment to stroke the boy’s head. He was such a good-hearted child, so full of hope and a determination to see that no one else should suffer his tragedies. Damian would do everything in his power to make sure that Bruce was given the love he deserved, he deserved better than this life no matter what he claimed. His real talent was not just his brilliance but his ability to attract people due to his earnestness and keep them together as a family. Given the opportunity, Bruce Wayne could change the world. But not tonight.

“Let’s get some rest little one, you’ve earned it.”


	39. Older Superboy Confronts Lex

“Luthor,” the guard’s scraggly voice announced causing the bald man to look up from his book in distaste. “Visitor here for you. You’ve got ten minutes, scum, make ‘em count.” Lex raised an eyebrow as he marked his page and sat up in his small but homey prison cell. During his last escapade, the courts had finally wised up and made a deal with him. He stayed and completed his 3 year sentence and in return he’ll have domestic amenities and be allowed to assist in some of the latest research and technology for the betterment of the world. Bit boring but it was this or be thrown into Blackgate and never see the light of day again.

“I didn’t believe I was allowed visitors, Lawrence,” He said smoothly while he dusted off his orange prison shirt. He wished he were better dressed for such a meeting. Clearly it was someone important, the Mayor, the President maybe even Waller. He smirked, just slightly; it looks like he might be heading out earlier than expected. Lawrence unlocked the door and steped out of the way.

“Yeah, well you don’t exactly say no to this guy.” And just like that, Lex’s hopes were dashed as that infuriatingly familiar symbol walks through the door as tall and proud as can be. Now what could Superman want with little old Lex Luthor? He and his band of miscreants already got him locked up in here.

“Thanks Mr. Keane, I won’t be long. I’d really appreciate it if you turned off your surveillance for a minute. I’ll keep an eye on him.” The hero said with a light smile, Lex rolled his eyes at the look of adoration on the guard’s face.

“Certainly Superman, I mean if I can’t trust you,” Lawrence said before ducking his eyes and holding out a small notebook and pen. “Also if it’s not too much trouble…” Superman grinned and held out his hand.

“Of course not, I still can’t get over people are even asking for it. Who should I make it out to? You?” 

“Nah, my partner, Bradley, his birthday is next month and this’ll make his day.” Lex watched the man’s face soften as he signed the paper. “I see you and Red Robin out there all the time. I’m happy for you two, and for all the kiddies that see there ain’t nothing wrong with loving another man.”

“No, there certainly isn’t,” Superman smiled, handing back the paper. “Tell Bradley happy birthday for me. Let me just finish this up and maybe I can still make my date later tonight. Red does not like to be kept waiting.” Grinning like the fool that he was, Lawrence tucked his pad into his pocket and strolled out of the cell leaving the father and son alone. After a moment, they both heard the sound of the security system powering down. 

“Superboy, it’s been awhile,” He said gesturing to the only other chair in the room which the young man sat in. “Of course you’ve been going by Superman for the last year or so. You’re, what? About 24 now? I suppose you thought it was time to let go of your childish persona. Tell me, does it ever get confusing having two Superman’s flying around?” Five years ago that would’ve gotten a reaction but it seems all that time with Red Robin has done the boy some good.

“I debated long and hard whether to come, waited until the very last second before I decided that this is something I needed to do before I could move on for good.” The young man explained with a pensive face as he reached into the small compartment built into his uniform and pulled out a velvet jewelry box. When he lifted the lid a simple, white gold men’s ring was revealed. 

“Oh my,” Lex said, a knowing smile pulling on his face as he pulled his eyes up from the ring to Superman’s calm facade. “I suppose this is the part when I say congratulations?”

“It’s not official, not yet. We’ve talked about it; both decided to take that step. All’s that’s left is for me to get on my knee and do the whole romantic thing. I have it all planned for tonight, it’s going to be perfect.” Lex hummed with suspicion.

“Alright son, I’ll bite, why are you telling me this? Why are you here?” Lex asks, stitching his fingers together and bringing them up to his lips. Superman gave him an amused smile and leaned lazily back in his chair, throwing one arm over the back.

“Isn’t it obvious? I wanted to let my father know that I was getting married.” Now  _that_  took Lex by surprise. He’d dropped the _father_  word hundreds of times over his years battling the Superboy turned man but he can never recollect the boy ever mirroring it back at him. “It took me a long time to accept that I have you in my DNA, even longer to stop being angry about it. I have Red to thank for that, for always being there for me through thick and thin, for being the best thing that ever happened to me.”

The young man paused and took a deep breath, reaching out to close the box in front of him with a quiet, resolute snap and returned it to its pouch. “So for the sake of myself and my future husband, this is me letting all of it go because starting tonight, I’m going to put you where you’ve always belonged, in my past. I have a bright and dazzling future ahead of me and I’m not going to let you be a shadow over it anymore.” Lex studied the boy, now more of man than he’d had every really noticed before.

“Alright, so you think announcing your impending engagement will keep me out of your life? I’m sorry to say we never really escape our fathers, my boy.”

“I’m not trying to escape you Lex. I’m alive because of your experiments; I met Robin because you gave me these powers. Half of me is always going to be you and that will never change. But I can stop telling myself that it’s a hindrance or a black mark on my life, you do not define me. Red has Batman for a father and I have you, we can’t choose our family but we can accept them.”

“Very interesting,” Lex says nodding his head, “you’ve developed a taste of philosophy, I like that. So now you’ve washed your hands of me for good, will you go and play the dutiful son to the original Man of Steel? Be the perfect children for Batman and Superman to dote over.”

“Superman is not my father,” another surprise for Lex. “That’s why I had to come here, because as much as I respect Kal, he never wanted to be my father. Between the two of you, I don’t know who was worse at trying to parent me. When I give this ring to Red, I get to put both of you behind me. I’ll have my husband, my job, maybe kids someday, but it will have been something _I_  built with the man I love. Kal and I are friends, teammates, but he refused to be anything more and I’m now ready to accept that. I don’t need a father anymore, I just need Red.” With that said, Superman stood up.

“You’ll be getting an invitation in the mail, there will be no names, no dates, no times, no locations but you will get that reminder and in return I will get the life I have earned.”

“Well then,” Lex said, holding out his hand to shake. “I wish you luck tonight Superman and in the future. I trust you know I won’t go easy on you once I get back out there.” The man returned the handshake, firm but within tolerable human limits.

“Don’t kid yourself Lex, you’ve never made things easy. Nothing’s changed between us; I just refuse to let it bother me anymore. Besides, I’ll have Batman as my father-in-law soon, I’m sure he’ll be far worse than you and Superman combined.” And for the first time since he was thrown into this pitiful cell, Lex threw his head back and laughed long and loud. By the time he had quieted down, Superman was already gone and Lawrence was locking him back up as the security came back online.

“You’re damn lucky Luthor,” Lawrence said, back to his normal gravelly tones. “Man like that has got better things to do than to slum it down here with the likes of you. Be proud that young man decided you were worth the visit.” And Lex smiled at that, Superboy had always been something of a mixed blessing. He was the only one of Lex’s clone experiments to survive with full Kryptonian abilities but he also turned traitor the minute he was loose.

The boy had been a victory, a headache, a problem to deal with and a toy to be played with but up until now, he has never been truly interesting. It’s probably the influence of Batman’s son but Lex likes to think maybe it’s a little bit of his father’s wily DNA in him. Superman was right, this was an end but it was also a promising beginning.

“Oh yes, I am proud indeed.”


	40. Captain Marvel Trusts His Team (Just a Little)

It had been a long, exhausting mission but eventually, the Justice League had emerged victorious. But after almost three days of battling and being away from the Earth, the Team was starting to feel the strain. Currently they were crashed on the Watchtower hovering far above the planet to debrief and destress before returning to their homes.

“Yes, Iris, I’ll be home today. In fact I’ll be in time for dinner so be sure to make plenty. Okay, I love you honey, see you soon. Bye.” Barry says into his cellphone, before hanging up and looking fondly at his phone for an extra moment before tucking it into his suit. Beside him, Hal smiles and gives his friend a light punch in the shoulder.

“You and Iris are so cute; you’re making all us single guys jealous.” He teases, giving a warm glance at the others around the table.

“I’m happily taken myself,” Clark says warmly, looking into his coffee reminding himself to call Lois soon.

“Me as well,” intoned Arthur echoed.

“I am happy as I am,” J’onn responded with a small, sad smile.

"As am I," Diana mirrors, laying her hand atop J'onn's

“I’ve got enough trouble with the boys.” Bruce says tiredly from the counter as he pours himself some coffee. It had been a long couple of days and the lighthearted, casual conversation was nice after so much noise and destruction from the averted invasion. They’d all make their way to their homes soon, but for now, this was enough.

“Looks like I’m all alone in the lonely hearts club,” Hal moans in exaggeration, “I won’t even bother asking you Cap, I bet the girls love your ‘aw shucks’ charm.” He says, shooting a grin over at the World’s Mightiest Mortal who hasn’t really participated in the conversation and was instead dreamily staring out the window as the inky black sky. “Captian?” Hal repeats, finally grabbing the man’s attention only to find the entire League looking at him. “You okay there bud?”

“Oh me?” Marvel says shyly rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m fine, just feeling awfully tired. I’m not used to staying like this for so long, I’m feeling kind of drained. I think this is the longest I’ve ever been Cap in a row, last time was only a day and I slept so long afterwards, nearly 8 hours.” The League exchanges curious looks with each other, Captain Marvel was notoriously close-lipped about his other life. Despite the fact that everyone else’s identity was out, he had refused to share his name. This was the most they’d ever heard about the man and his powers.

“You know,” Hal begins slowly and cautiously, “Eight hours is the normal amount most people sleep.”

“Wow, really? All at once?” Cap says blinking lazily and grins when Hal nods. “That sure must be nice, some people have a lot of time on their hands.” Clark shakes his head in confusion; he doesn’t even know what to make of _that_  weird statement but he’s more interested on another point the Captain had brought up.

“You mentioned that you don’t always stay in that form. I just assumed that’s what you looked like and you just changed costumes.” Captain Marvel sits up a little straighter as he realizes he’d let more slip than intended and searches for a way to explain that he wasn’t always a 7 foot tall god without giving away that he turns into an eleven year old homeless kid.

“No, my magic gave me this body so I can use my powers. When I’m not being Cap, I change back into regular me, sort of like a transformer.” He smiles and is rewarded with warm smiles back which is always the best part of League. It’s nice to have people smile back at you instead of cursing and pushing you aside. “I think, I don’t actually know what a transformer is.”

“So we don’t actually know what you look like?” Barry asks curiously, “do you look much different normally?” Cap bites his lip and begins twiddling his thumbs.

“Oh you know some things are the same but there are a lot of differences too. I’m uh not as tall when I’m just me, not as big either.” Diana reaches over and rests a hand on his wrist as he kept fidgeting with obvious anxiety.

“It does not matter who you or what you look like outside of your costume. We know you to be strong, honorable and courageous in battle. You only need disclose what you are comfortable with, you are our friend and comrade, we trust you as you are.” Captain Marvel looks down at the hand before turning back to Diana with a bright smile that seemed to light up the whole room.

“Aw thank you Miss Prince, that means an awful lot.” Diana smiles back and patted his hand again.

“I understand it has been a long couple of days for us all,” Bruce says interrupting the touching scene. “We’re all finished up and you’re all free to leave. I’ll be heading back to the Manor shortly myself.” He turns subtly towards the magic user. “You’re welcome to stay up here a little longer Captain; your quarters are fully equipped with a shower, television and other domestic comforts. You’re the only one who hasn’t utilized it.”

“Aw man you haven’t crashed here yet? I’m half tempted to move in; Bat Wayne spared no expense on our rooms.” Hal chimes in enthusiastically, “comfiest bed ever and the shower is to die for, I never want to get out.” The Captain again looks dreamily out the window.

“Boy, I can’t even remember the last time I was able to shower,” he says with quiet awe once again questioning what sort of home life their mysterious Captain had. The more he said, the more they realized it probably wasn’t as ideal as they’d imagined. “But I don’t know,” the Captain sighs. “I’d have to change back with you all here.”

“Come on Cap, we’d respect your privacy, you can trust us.” Barry adds in with a soft, friendly voice also picking up the uncomfortable vibes.

“I’ve never had anyone in my life I could trust,” Captain Marvel responds calmly, with a light shrug as if he didn’t consider his answer to be anything out of the ordinary. Barry rubs at his face to keep himself from speaking, maybe offering his friend a room in his house and people to love him. Clearly there was more going on here than anyone was aware. No one imagined how deep the man’s deceptively shallow, open waters really were.

“That’s…” Arthur begins before reconsidering himself and continuing. “You’re our friend; you’ve fought beside us for nearly a year. Why don’t you think you can trust us?” The Captain looks down and starts drawing small circles on the table.

“Everyone always wants something, you just gotta figure out what it is.” He looks up suddenly with a guilty expression, “I don’t think it’s that way with you guys it’s just, well, I don’t think you’d like me very much outside. I’m uh, not what you’d expect. You might even kick me out.”

“You can trust me,” Bruce says once again cutting through the tension. “I already know your identity and I still like you.” He announces casually as he sipped more of his coffee. “If you’re ever interested, I could give you some help with Mr. Ebenezer.” Captain goes ramrod straight, staring at the Dark Knight with wide, fearful eyes. “Did you think I’d let you join if I didn’t have a basic background on you? If it helps, you were difficult to pin down. It took me months to find you, more to get any relevant information.”

“And you let me stay?” Captain Marvel, Billy, shouts, standing up quickly and leaning forward on his hands over the table. The air was tense but Batman was calm as always.

“Of course, Captain. You’ve more than proven yourself a reliable ally and a good friend. I will admit I have my concerns but you’ve handled them thus far. Of course, I’m willing to lend aid should ever you need it. Well will always support you if or when you ever decide to come forward with your life. I’m told that’s what being on a team is all about.” Very slowly, Captain cracks a smile and the air became much lighter.

“Aw Bruce, you do care about us.” Clark teases, leaning back in his chair to look at the human. Bruce levels him with an annoyed glare.

 “Well,” Barry says, standing up and stretching. “Iris is waiting for me back at the ranch and I am not going to be late for dinner. It’s been real, but I’ll catch you guys later.” Arthur nods and stands up as well.

“Mera is probably expecting me back as well; she gets bored running Atlantis without me.”

“Lois too,” Clark adds, finishing his off the last of his coffee. “Well not the bored part, I’m sure she’s gotten into plenty of trouble while I’ve been gone.”

“And I’m,” Marvel begins quietly as he stands up with his comrades. “I’m going to take a shower and maybe sleep for a bit before heading back to Fawcett. It um,” Billy ducks his head and rubs at his neck. “It would be nice to have some place to sleep safely every once in a while.” The remaining Leaguers smile as Marvel backed up slowly to the door. “So, safe trip home everyone and thank you again for your support. I’ll just leave now.” He says, ducking around the corner out of the kitchen.

They all exchanged proud glances before Cap pops his head back in. “Also you’re going to hear a loud lightning bolt, that’s normal. I don’t think it’ll damage anything up here just uh yeah, wanted to let you know so you wouldn’t scared or anything.” He begins, mumbling more and more with each word.

“Alright Captain, we understand. Thank you for your consideration, have a nice evening.” Diana says graciously causing Marvel to grin one last time before disappearing for good. Hal gives them all a look and let out a breath.

“Never have picked that guy to have skeletons in his closet, he’s about has happy go lucky as my 10 year old neighbor.” He mutters as, true to form, the sound of lightening briefly resounds through the Watchtower before quieting down. “What’s a guy like that have to hide?”

“We all have our scars Jordan,” Bruce answers, “when Marvel is ready maybe he’ll share some of them with us. For now, we keep our distance and offer support.”

“Easy for you to say since you apparently have known for a while now,” Clark comments, standing up and stretching his back out. “Anything important we should know?” Bruce turns his eyes from the group, contemplating once again if it was worth the Captain’s trust to tell the secret he’d unwillingly kept. The secret that one day might end up getting the boy killed. But they’ve come this far, he couldn’t back down now.

“You’ve worked with him and you know what kind of person he is. That should be enough for now, until then, I need to return to Gotham to make sure the Manor hasn’t burned down in my absence.” The League laughs as they wrapp up their conversation. A few doors down, a painfully skinny boy is just stepping into his first hot shower for months. Moaning with contentment, he wonders to himself if maybe he wasn’t being fair to the League. Maybe, just maybe, he had finally found people he could trust. But he’d think about that later, after this amazing shower and crawled into the bed that looked like a cloud. Yes, things might finally be looking up for one Billy Batson.


	41. Wayne Girls AU: Pretty Girls and Poison Smiles

“Ahem,” comes a huffy little voice to Tabitha’s right. Her face doesn’t even move as she continues typing for an extra few seconds or so just to annoy the brat. Damira has been standing there for the better part of 10 minutes, looking annoyed and put out and Tabitha has been all too happy to ignore the little princess. Beth is forced to spend the rest of the evening with her anyway.

“Rachel’s in her room getting ready for the gala tonight; now quit bothering me.” Tabitha says eventually just because it’s irritating to have Damira’s scowling face in her peripheral vision. Instead, Damira sits unhappily on the seat next to her and crosses her arms like a grumpy child. Tabitha sighs and saves what she’s working on before glaring at her younger sister. “What do you want?”

“You tied up my hair last week for patrol.” Damira begins reluctantly, unease written all over her rounded face. “It was secure and comfortable and didn’t move during the entire route. Grayson says you are the best hairstylist and I demand you do it again for the gala this evening.” Tabitha stares before quietly shutting her laptop and setting it off to the side before stretching out her fingers for the delicate art of hair styling. After all, it’s not every day Damira Wayne would stoop down to her lowly level to ask for something as personal as haircare. And Tabitha has been trying to get on with the newest Robin recently because she has completely gotten over being replaced and mocked and nearly killed. Mostly.

Damira is tense and uncomfortable as she turns her back to Tabitha so she can work on her hair. Beth almost feels a bit sympathetic; she can only imagine how hard it must be for a trained assassin to turn their back on a perceived enemy. She moves her hands slowly and gently partially out of respect and partially to avoid getting stabbed.

“You’re wearing the green and gold gown right?” Tab asks, mentally going over what hair style would best compliment the dress and suit Damira’s textured but soft hair. Mira should count herself lucky she inherited Talia’s gorgeous locks rather than Bruce’s thick, unruly rat’s nest. Damira scoffs.

“Unfortunately, Father picked out the dress and has guilted me into wearing it. I suppose some sentimental part of him wants me to be another foolish, dainty girl just like all the other brats.” Tabitha raises an eyebrow as she picks up one of the many brushes that are always strewn throughout the Manor and begins untangling the knots in the girl’s hair.

“You know,” Tabitha begins slowly, “there’s nothing wrong with acting like a girl.”

“Of course you would say that,” Damira sulks, curling her knees up and leaning forward onto them. Beth clicks her tongue and straightens Mira’s back so she can keep working. “You’re practically the definition of femininity with your impractical dresses and annoying laugh.” Damira wrinkles her nose in disgust. “I don’t know why Father let you be his partner, much less how you’ve managed to gain the respect of people like my Grandfather.” Despite the goading comments, Tabitha smiles and she knows it is not one of her nice, sweetened smiles she pulls out at parties. Or one of the soothing smiles she gives the Titans or Rachel to get them off her case. No, this smile is bitter and sharp and full of malice, probably as close to a real smile as she can get these days.

“I don’t imagine you would understand little sister, so let me explain it to you how my mother once did me.” She begins as she starts weaving a tight but beautiful braid. “Growing up in the League with your asshole, sexist Grandfather, you were probably told that you could never be a true heir because you happened to be born a girl and that you would always be inferior to other men.” Damira’s shoulders tense and Tabitha shakes her head, they must work on their little girl’s poker face if she hopes to make it in the real world. “Well I’m going to tell you right now that’s a boldfaced lie, one most people happily accept and believe because it’s easier than acknowledging the truth of the matter.” She says lightly and waits for Mira to take the bait.

“And that is?” She asks eventually when Tabitha doesn’t answer immediately, her tone terse and impatient. Tabitha finishes one of the braids and brings a hand over to her sister’s chin, gently coaxing it so that Damira can look her in the eye and see how deadly serious she is.

“That, if trained properly, a woman is the most deadly person in the world.” Damira’s eyes widen at the implication before Tabitha turns her head back around and continues braiding her hair. “Men have demeaning and undervaluing women for centuries, they think this is because we are weak and need to be managed. There are many women, like the Amazons, who fought this view and proved their worth with their might and their swords. But my mother showed me that some women work a different way, women who work with cunning manipulations hidden in demure smiles and deal killing blows through gentle touches. There’s more than one way to break a person and you can do it without spilling a drop of blood.” Damira is struggling now to turn back, to look back and view the calm face of her seemingly worthless sister but Tabitha’s hands are firm on her shoulders keeping her in place.

“And let me digress for a moment and say that this isn’t just an issue of sexism. It happens to everyone, man, women and child. There are just people out there who will call you weak and feeble because of your life choices and you need to learn how to deal with those individuals, as a Robin, as a Wayne, as a woman.” Tabitha notes, nodding to herself as Damira’s hair comes together within her hands.

“How? How can I win, how can I prove my worth with resorting to the only skills I know?” Damira whines and Tabitha gets it, she really does. Once upon a time she was a little girl in an empty house, too smart for her own good and bitterly unhappy with the role she was expected to play in life. Until her mother came to her and put her upon her knee and told her the same thing that Tabitha is now telling Damira.

“There is a power in perceived weakness. You’ve seen it as Robin, how many cops and criminals have underestimated you for your small size and gender. It’s fine to let them believe you are fragile and incapable so long as you never, not for one second, believe it yourself. You’ll lose the game, your life, if you ever doubt yourself and your capabilities.” Tabitha continues, thinking of all the scars and wounds she has sustained, physical or otherwise, due to the times when she doubted herself. In the end, it almost broke her until she remembered her mother’s words and overcame her obstacles through sheer spite and the unwillingness to let something as pedestrian as  _heartbreak_  bring her down. She knows she lost something of herself in the transition but she’ll be damned if she’ll ever let herself be hurt that way again. No one will get the chance.  

“So how do you use it?” Mira asks seriously, giving her full attention to the words.

“It works different for everyone. You need to look good and hard at yourself and say ‘who am I and what bullshit am I willing to put up with today’ and I guarantee those levels will change daily.” Tabitha smiles, “but you need to take every part of yourself, the things you hate, the things you like, and you need to polish them down into points. Shave off the excess, cut down on the things that are holding you back until your entire being is sharp as a knife and ready to slay.” She pauses to look over Damira’s hair and untangles her hands to redo the last part of the braid. “And when you’ve done that, you need to cover all those sharp edges with soft smiles and delicate laughs and bury them deep inside where no one can see them until you’re ready to weaponize them.”

Damira scoffs, pulling a bit away from Tabitha. “What and that works?”

“You are never stronger than when your enemy believes you are weak.” Tabitha quotes with the long practice of telling herself. “It made your dad trust me and take me on as his partner not long after Janis had died and a new Robin was the last thing on his mind. It made the heroes and villains of the world laugh at my small stature and give me the room to use them to my advantage. It’s given me allies I love but can play like an instrument and create my enemies who I can usually predict and get to do what I want.” Again, she can feel Damira’s interest come back as she settles back into position. “Embrace the stereotypes and perceptions people attach to you and turn them into your weapons. I enjoy wearing my dresses because their fun and comfortable and I like my reputation as the delicate Wayne girl; those are elements of who I am and I have taken them and made them  _mine_. I have made them into something that no one can take away from me or mock me for and I will use those things to take down anyone who gets in my way.” She continues, her voice harsh and bitter and full of all the vindictiveness she normally hides behind sleepy smiles and sassy comebacks.

“Your grandfather taught you to wound with a sword, but I can show you how to do far worse with just a smile and a glance.” With a final twist and a couple of pins, Tabitha pulls all of Damira’s braids together into a secure but elegant bun on the back of her head. She leans back and observes her handiwork. “And we’re all done, that should stay up all evening unless you start pulling at the pins. Just pull your dress over it and you’ll be ready to go.” Beth looks up at the clock and makes a face, it’s getting to be that time and she should start getting ready too. She got her make-up done hours ago but she still needs to do her hair and nails.

“Drake,” she turns at the sound of her name and sees Damira sitting up now, delicately playing with the back of her hair. “I appreciate the time spent assisting me and I will admit your advice, while different from what I am used to, does merit further thought. Would you be willing to show me some examples of how to implement this way of thinking?” And Tabitha is smiling again, that cynical smile she only brings out on special occasions. She lays a soft but firm hand on Damira’s shoulder.

“I would be happy to darling little sister, you stick with me during the gala tonight and I will show you how to crush a man with a few words.” Damira’s eyes light up and she doesn’t even push off Tabitha’s hand like she normally does.

“I look forward to it. You know, I do believe I see why Father and Grandfather are so interested in you.” Tabitha scoffs, bringing her hand up to give a quick tug on Damira’s cheek.

“Oh Mira, they’ve known me for a long time, fought with and against me for years and they still don’t have any idea of what they’re dealing with and that’s just how I like it.”


	42. Ra's Visits a Dying Old Man Damian

It was a picturesque summer’s day as the young man casually strolled towards his destination. He walked leisurely with his hands tucked neatly into his pockets, but with a purpose. For today was a rather important day, today Ra’s al Ghul was going to visit his grandson for the last time. It had been many years since Ra’s had last seen him; Damian was an old man now, having fought and suffered as a hero and, now, lay on his deathbed waiting for the inevitable. Ra’s found it bitterly ironic that he will be visiting his grandson, now old and grey, while his grandfather wore a body still young and virile. The poetic justice is carried further when one considers that he was forced to take this body when Damian refused to give over his own. Now the boy can read his mistakes all over Ra’s stolen face.

He turned over the pale wrist and checks the time. After all these years, he still found it difficult to consider this body his own even though he’s inhabited it far longer than its previous owner ever did. He suspected it may be a bit easier after today. Damian’s nurse has just left giving Ra’s approximately forty minutes to say his goodbyes. He tries not to be overly sentimental; he’d long since disposed of any fleeting affection he once held for the boy. However, his passing signified the end of an era.

The immortal man hovered in the doorway for an extra moment before slipping quietly inside the room; all was silent save for the steady beep of the heart monitor and the slow, rasping breathing of its occupant. Damian doesn’t open his eyes though Ra’s doesn’t believe for a moment that the boy was ignorant to his presence.

“Nice of you to stop by, Grandfather,” Damian said cordially as if it hasn’t been over a decade since they last spoke. “Come to say your farewells?”

“Of course, I know we’ve had our disagreements over the years, but I was there for your beginning and it's only right that I be there for your end as well.” Ra’s stated calmly as he stepped up to the man’s bedside. Age has not treated his boy kindly. His face was haggard and worn, marred by deep wrinkles and even deeper scars. Ra’s reaches down and runs his smooth fingers along one dark scar cutting across his cheek and ending just below his left ear. He’d given Damian that scar back when the boy had been an angry young man and still believed it was up to him to avenge his brother’s death.

Ra’s could have killed him right then and there, in fact there were a dozen times over the years when he could have cut the other down. But he could still recall the look in Timothy’s eyes as he hovered protectively over the boy who'd replaced him and offered himself in his place. The young Detective had thought the child’s life was important and had given his own to save Damian’s; it was only right that Ra’s honor that promise until the very end. Through all this, Damian never once opened his eyes.

“Grandson, why will you not look at me?” He asked softly even though he already knew the answer. Damian adjusted his head so he was facing Ra’s but his eyes remained shut.

“Because if I look at you, I will be ten years old again. Drake will be coming to summon me to dinner with the family. They will all be there, together again, happily goading one another and engaging in ridiculous banter.” Damian smiled bitterly. “We were such fools back then; we spent all that time complaining about how difficult our lives were. We had no idea how good we’d had it, not until after Drake left us.” Ra’s hummed lightly, now lightly tracing his fingers down Damian’s wrinkled face. He’d been around death long enough to know Damian’s time was drawing near.

“He saved your life you realize, a foolish sacrifice. He was worth so much more than you. I’ll never know why such a brilliant young man thought your existence was more important than his, you, who was created in a vat of chemicals for the sole purpose of becoming my vessel when the time came. But you always were causing trouble; you couldn’t even die how you were supposed to.” Damian gave a bitter smirk.

“I spent so many years trying to figure out why Drake would even consider such a thing. We weren’t even remotely close back then. I remember getting into a fight with him just hours before we left for that last patrol, I can’t even remember what for, only that it was pointless,” Damian sighed. “You know Father and the others thought Drake was depressed, that he decided I was more useful,  _more loved_ , than he was.” Ra’s raised an eyebrow.

“Oh? And what do you believe?” He asked, dropping his voice soothingly in way that accidentally imitated Timothy’s old speech pattern. The hitch in Damian’s breathing told Ra’s that he recognizes it as well.

“Drake was always putting other people first; it was why he tracked down Batman in the first place.” Damian answered after a moment. “He put his heart into every one of his relationships, gave them everything he had even if he received nothing in return. In the beginning, it had been easy to write Drake off. We didn’t give him the recognition he deserved, but he knew his worth and he knew in the end that we loved him even if the words were never spoken.” Finally, Damian opened his weary eyes and gazed sadly up at him. For the past 70 years Damian and his family did everything they could to avoid looking directly at Ra’s out of grief and anger. Now, Damian was staring directly into his grandfather’s eyes, drinking in the face of his long dead brother.

“I think in those last moments, Tim was just being my big brother. Nothing more, nothing less. No grand conspiracy, no deep-seeded insecurities, just Tim caring enough to not let me die at your hand.” Damian said with a light smile as he let his eyes freely roam the youthful face, frozen in time by the Lazarus Pits.

“I’d like to think I did him proud, made all of them proud. I never purposely spilled blood after that night. I became Red Robin once I outgrew Robin and lead my own team of Titans. I fought hard and honorably for two Batmen, before I took up that mantle as well. I trained three students and passed on all the wisdom I learned from my elders and betters.” Damian’s smile dropped and became resigned. “But they’re all gone now, Pennyworth, Father, Grayson, Drake’s friends, even Todd has managed to stay in his grave for the past 32 years. I’m the only one left,” his eyes again sharpened on Ra’s face. “I’m the last one who remembers that Timothy Drake was once a hero, when I go, then he really shall be dead.”

“I’m afraid so,” Ra’s agreed softly, leaning down to take Damian’s hand and they fell into a companionable silence.

“It’s almost time,” Damian said as if he were discussing the weather and not his impending death. “I have a last request Grandfather, before you can finally be free of any lingering guilt and shame.” Ra’s rubbed his thumb over the wrinkled skin.

“Of course.”

“Is he,” Damian began softly and hesitantly. “Is there any part of him left in there at all? Grayson thought for the longest time that you were keeping his soul trapped within you, is that true?” Ra’s smirked, it was a childish question but aren’t we all children at the end? He brought the aged hand up to his lips and brushed them against Damian’s knuckles.

“No,” He said resolutely. “The young man that you once knew died the night he sacrificed his body to me.” Ra’s frowned as he once more reflected on that night when everything had gone wrong. Of Damian’s refusal to cooperate and Timothy’s attempts to stall until the time came to make his choice. Ra’s running out of time in his former body and dear Timothy with his hand outstretched, afraid but willing. “If things had not been so rushed, and had we been in a better environment; I might have been able to preserve his essence. But without a receptor to hold his soul, he vanished into the ether and perished.” He answered sorrowfully, once more upset by the loss of such a bold and brilliant mind. To his surprise, the old man beneath him sighed in relief.

“Good, Drake hated being out of control, watching his body act in such a vile manner would have absolutely infuriated him.” Damian rasped hoarsely, voice barely above a whisper but there was a light smile on his face. His heart was slowing and each breath hung heavily in the air. “And at least now I’ll be able to see him again; our family will be complete once more. That’s the greatest relief you could have given me, Thank you. I believe I am ready now, Grandfather.” Ra’s smiled as emotions he’d thought long since dead rose within him. He leaned down to brush his lips against his grandson’s brow.

“I am glad, go in peace my child. Please give Timothy and the rest of your family my regards.” But he imagined Damian could no longer hear him. Even still, Ra’s sat there and held his hand until that steady beat ceased for good. He took a deep breath and gazed down with amused affection at his grandson’s body. Yes, he would always remain fond of this clever and troublesome family, but that era had passed now and it was time he too moved on.

There was no one but him now to lay claim to this body, so it would be his forevermore. He fixed the front of his coat, tucked a stray strand of hair behind his ears and left the room. There were new problems to face, new ways the mindless masses of the world had come up with to destroy this Earth and Ra’s al Ghul and his League of Assassin would be there to stop it.

New enemies would stand up in his wake, new Batmen and Robins even, but in the chaotic menagerie of it all, no one would remember the brave boy who gave up everything for his brother. But that was life, people lived and people died and some very special people got a chance to be a part of something greater. Ra’s smiled, something dark and wolfish and nothing at all like how Tim Drake used to smile. Somethings were just eternal.

 


	43. Conner Gets a Motorcycle to Impress Tim

Now under normal circumstances, Conner considered himself to be pretty handsome. He wasn’t being vain or arrogant; it was just a simple fact that he was one hunky son of a gun. And if he was already handsome then right now he’s got to be so attractive that everyone around him was going to faint from how unbelievably hot he was. He smirked as he revved his motorcycle. God he hoped Tim blushed at him like a schoolgirl when Conner came to pick him up on this baby.

Because Conner can be a good boyfriend and sometimes he can even be pretty darn supportive to all of Tim’s emotional needs. Right now he wanted to be the smoking hot boyfriend on a motorcycle coming to pick up his cute nerd up from school. Because you didn’t have to have super hearing or laser vision to notice that Tim had been stressed and leaning dangerously towards another depressive episode. And Conner wanted to make Tim, his boyfriend, his best friend, his Robin, smile again. Thus the motorcycle. Ok, so the motorcycle didn’t  _initially_  start out as part of his ‘Make Tim Happy' plan but it sure did work out well.

It started about three weeks ago when Ma had graciously, and completely without his permission, offered Conner up to help the Brennan family get the rest of their crops in when Tony Brennan broke his leg falling off the roof. Conner, of course, hadn’t minded helping out the needy family but gosh reaping corn took so much longer when he had to pretend to be human. Eventually, the work got done and Conner wasn’t surprised when he found out the family didn’t have the extra cash to pay a full laborer’s salary. But they did have this cherry motorcycle owned by the oldest boy, Davey, who’d joined the Marines a few summers back and didn’t need it anymore. Ma didn’t even object because she was so pleased he helped take in both their and Brennan’s crops with only mild complaining. Let’s see how see how she felt once he started tearing through Smallville on this bad boy.

So he spent his free time shining and buffing the machine; he even went out and bought a cheap manual on motorcycle maintenance so he could make sure he was taking care of it right. During this time, Tim had slipped into one of his sadder moods and Conner didn’t even think to bring up the bike when he was calmly stroking Tim’s feather soft hair. He’s glad he didn’t; now he can surprise his boyfriend by looking hotter than the sun on his beautiful chopper outside of his high school. He smiled as a few pretty honeys noticed him and sauntered towards him in their too-short-to-be-uniform skirts. If he wasn’t happily taken he would probably be staring… because he certainly wasn’t now.

“Hey Handsome,” A perky blonde said, running her fingers along the handle bar. “Are you waiting for someone special or will anyone do?” She asked in a flirty voice that doesn’t belong in a school uniform so much as a porn video. Conner swallowed thickly as he reminded himself how much he loved his boyfriend. He moved the handle bars slightly so her dainty hand fell off.

“Sorry beautiful,” he began because she  _is_  beautiful and he might as well let her down gently that he's very bi and currently dating a man. “I’m waiting on a very special person, you might know him. Tim Drake, he’s a little shorter than you, wears baggy pants and oversized cardigans, probably in all the nerd, smart people classes.” He doesn’t think they could look more surprised than if he started levitating. He mentally checked to see if he’s done just that. Nope, he’s still on the seat.

“Oh how sweet. Is he… your cousin?” A taller, darker skinned girl asked with a hopeful grimace.

“That would make things a bit awkward since we’re dating,” He intoned with a smile as he recognized the sound of Tim’s voice coming from just inside the school. “Well ladies, it’s been real fun but I believe I see my man right now.” He revved the bike loudly so it echoed all across the courtyard of school and drawing everyone’s attention. Including Tim’s. There’s a quiet, barely audible curse under the other boy’s breath and soon Tim was storming forward with flushed cheeks. Are they red from embarrassment? Anger? Attraction? Kon grinned while the girls staggered back as Tim approached the bike.

“Jeez babe, are you always this late getting out of school? I’ve been waiting for 12 minutes at least.” Tim’s eyes caught his own and even the Boy of Steel couldn't help the twinge of fear at the furious look in those cold blue-grey eyes.

“Wow Tim, I didn’t know you had a boyfriend, or that he was so hot.” The first girl said with poorly disguised spite in her voice and Kon’s stomach turned to ice. He didn’t even think about what others might say; he could have just outed Tim in front of his entire school. Here he was trying to make Tim feel better and he could have just blown everything to Hell. Tim took a deep, calming breath and put on a charmingly fake smile.

“I wasn’t aware you were interested in my personal life. Paris, this is my boyfriend Conner. He’s from Kansas so he isn’t around Gotham much. I’m sorry I didn’t introduce you sooner, but I was planning on bringing him to our Winter Formal.” Conner quietly let out his breath, so Tim hadn’t been hiding his sexuality. He was just starting to think he could salvage this disaster when Tim grinned in a way that he probably thinks was pleasant but usually had criminals shitting their pants. “We could double if you can find a date in time.” Conner had the decency not to snort at the thinly veiled rib but he could hear a few of the closer kids laughing quietly into their palms. The girl sneered before throwing her hair over her shoulder and stomping off with her friends leaving Tim and Kon mostly alone.

“Surprise?” Kon said cautiously as he scratches the back of his neck because Tim still had his arms crossed and was still giving him  _that_ look. Jeez Kent, way to screw everything up. But he couldn't be in too much trouble because Tim caved, the look in his eyes mellowed out to mild annoyance as he leaned forward to peck Kon’s cheek.

“You are so lucky you’re handsome. Nice bike, is it new?” Tim said as if the entire school wasn’t watching as he climbed on the back of the motorcycle and wrapped his arms around Conner’s chest. He supposed after years of being judged and mentored by Batman that you just learn to deal with that sort of thing.

“It is, but uh, Tim, is this okay?” Conner began slowly, dropping his voice so only they can hear. “I’m sorry I wanted to surprise you, I hope I didn’t do anything bad.” Tim hugged his chest lightly.

“It’s fine, Kon. I appreciate the gesture and this is a beautiful bike but please let me know when you’re going to drop by next time.” And Conner can hear the sincerity in the other’s voice so he let himself enjoy the sensation of Tim huddled close. “So what’s the occasion super boyfriend?”

“Oh I just so happened to be in town and I thought I’d swing by and grab the cutest guy in town.” Kon teased and he doesn’t need to look at Tim to know he’s raising an eyebrow in bored disbelief. They both know he flew the bike halfway across the country just so Kon could make a dramatic entrance. He revved the bike one more time as he slowly pulled out of the courtyard, taking most of the student’s eyes with them. “I think I may have just massively upped your street cred nerd wonder.”

“You underestimate the fickleness of high school students; this will be old news by Monday.” Tim shrugged as Conner merged into traffic slowly and with great pain. From the back, Tim let out a short, annoyed sigh. “Also pull over to the nearest exit when you can, we’re switching. If you’re going to sweep me off my feet and pick me up on a motorcycle, at least learn to drive the thing without using your TTK keeping it upright.”

Now it was Kon’s turn to blush as he dutifully pulled off the road and into an empty lot; he thought it would take Tim longer to notice. Conner had been halfway here with the bike before he remembered that he still didn’t quite have his balance yet. He could feel Tim smirking into his back as he got off and settled on the front of the bike. While Tim adjusted the settings in his own Tim way; Kon rested his chin on his shoulder and thought that maybe he did okay after all.

“It’d be a shame to take this baby home right away, why don’t we drive around for a bit. Then I can give you proper lesson on how to properly handle a bike this good.” He turned his body so he could give Conner a soft kiss on the lips. “Thank you Kon, really.” Tim said quietly as he signals and re-integrated into traffic much better than Kon had. He wrapped his arms around his boyfriend’s chest, enjoying the taunt confidence of his muscles as he speedily navigated through Gotham’s twisted streets. He thinks that the bike looks good on him, but there was nothing sexier than his favorite boy wonder being happy again.


	44. Tim Asks About Jason

“Hey uh Mr. Grayson?” Dick looks up from the computer at the sound of his name, he’d almost missed it the way it had been said so quietly. But Tim Drake had a way of disappearing into the background. What’s worse is that if Jay hadn’t died, Dick is pretty sure he wouldn’t have made any effort to prevent Tim from hiding himself away. Some big brother he's turning out to be.

“Tim, I told you, it’s Dick.” He says turning away from the computer.  _Look him in the eye, Dick,_ he tells himself as the shy new Robin steps forward,  _make him feel welcome_. He smiles at Tim and is pleased to see the younger boy smile back slightly.  _Don’t treat him like you did Jason_. “What can I do you for?”

“I uh,” Tim ducks his head and bringing wringing his hands together. “I’ve been here a month almost, training mostly but uh, I was wondering if you could tell me about, about him.” Tim nods his head in direction of the memorial case Bruce had recently put up. The boy swallows nervously. “It’s just, I’m not sure I know what it means to be Robin or if I’m anywhere near capable enough and Jay, he was amazing, not that you weren’t I mean, but I watched him and Batman take the streets all the time and he just had this  _shine_  to him and I-I’d like to be a part of that, if I can, I just want to help, if people would like that is.” By the time he’d finished, Tim was all but murmuring.

Dick rubs at his face. “It’s fine Tim, but I didn’t know Jason all that well. I only met him a dozen times before he died. you should ask Bruce or Alfred, I’m sure they have loads of stories about Jason.” Tim winces so visibly Dick had to blink and make sure the boy hadn’t been physically struck.

“Mr. Wayne won’t talk about him at all.” Tim whispers, as if talking any louder would disturb the ghost that seem to be hanging over him. “Every time I bring him up, Mr. Wayne gets all tense and angry at me like he knows what I’m doing. I don’t suppose anyone wants to replace their dead son.” Dick leans forward and puts a hand on Tim shoulder.

“Bruce has always been distant,” Dick begins lightly as if a whole childhood’s worth of longing isn’t wrapped up in that statement. “But it’s been even worse since Jay died, for a little while, I thought Bruce might die himself in his grief.” He squeezes Tim’s shoulder. “But then you came along, you gave Bruce his sense of balance back, you gave him a reason to hope again. I know Bruce and Jason had a very special bond and they loved each other as father and son, but that doesn’t mean you’re any less important. And I can tell you this, Jason would be proud of you, not just for carrying on his, _our_ , legacy but for saving Bruce when no one else could.” Tim smiles at that, really smiles.

“Aw man Dick, I didn’t really do anything special.” Tim says, a light blush creeping across his cheeks. Dick smirks as he drags the boy in closer and begins ruffling his hair. He’d never realized how cute these little robins were. Tim lets out a little squeal as he tries to escape but Nightwing has plenty of experience holding onto wriggling persons and continued to playfully tease his newest brother. He knows he failed Jason, failed him just as much as Bruce did by not offering the love and support he’d so obviously needed. But no one said that Dick Grayson made the same mistakes twice.  

“Alright you, that’s enough. Let’s hit the mats and I’ll show you this sweet lil spin kick Jay and I were working on.”


	45. Batdad and Jason

“Goddammit,” twelve year old Jason hissed out long and slow through his clenched teeth as he dragged himself back to the Manor. It was a gorgeous day in Gotham for once and Jason had decided that it was perfect weather to try and climb one of those giant oaks out back. Despite all the warnings Bruce had given him about climbing, those tall branches had called to him and there was no way he could deny the temptation. But it seemed his month and a half of living the high life had dulled his climbing skills. He didn’t even get a third of the way up before he found his grip slipping on an unsteady branch and, before he knew it, he was on his way down. The hard way. He barely had time to let out a surprised shriek before he'd collided painfully with the ground.

Now he’d taken a good many falls in his time climbing all over the seediest parts of Gotham. He’d broken 6 bones by the time he’d dropped out of school and was no stranger to injury. But this was still pretty bad, in his top 5 most painful moments for sure. It had taken him a good minute after he’d landed to even catch his breath, move less move.

But he had to move, there was no one going to come save him so he just had to save himself. He stifled the cry in his throat as he pushed himself into a sitting position, tears leaking down his cheek as a few of his ribs constricted in a horrible way. Okay, totally broken. Fine, no problem he knew how to deal with this. His jerk of a landlord had broken two ribs when he was 9 trying to defend his mom from the oversized bully. Secure the area with gauze, chew aspirin like candy for a week and he’d be fine.

By the time he’d staggered to his knees, and then shakily to his feet, he was shaking from the exertion as every nerve was singing. His right arm was lying limply by his side, rolling around in an unnatural fashion. He vaguely recalled trying to grab a branch on his way down so he must have popped it. He frowned, it would be easier to have someone help relocate the arm but there no reason to involved His Royal Batness or the butler. His friend Eddie once told him you could put a dislocated shoulder back by ramming it into a wall, he’d try that out when he got back to his room.

He grit his teeth and began the long trek back to the Manor all the while counting his lucky stars that his injuries weren’t worse. Gotham’s recent good weather meant that the bushes were nice and plump and softened the landing that could have just as easily paralyzed him. Of course he’d be as black and blue as a Batman beaten thug for a good while and he probably knocked out a few brain cells but he’d survive, he always did.

“Jason!” He winced at the yell that exploded across the lawn followed by the sound of rapid footsteps his way. He closed his eyes and cursed again. Great, now he was going to get yelled at for being an idiot, for doing exactly what the Bat told him not to and just being a general nuisance. The way his luck was going today, Old Man Wayne would be tossing Jason back in that dirty alley where he’d picked him up by nightfall. Well, it had been fun while it lasted. “Oh my God Jason, what happened? Were you climbing those trees? Dammit Jay I told you…” Jason winced, expecting a punch or at least an angry lecture. Instead he got surprisingly gentle hands gracing his cuts and bruises before lighting on his dislocated arm.

“Okay Jason, just relax and breathe for a moment. I’m going to put your shoulder back in place, I need you to be brave for a moment, can you do that for me?” Jason just stared up at Bruce with wide eyes. He wasn’t mad at Jason for disobeying him? If Willis Todd had caught him like this, he’d have received a few extra bruises and gotten locked in his room to wallow over his mistakes. He nodded dumbly as Bruce’s fingers ghosted on his cheek for a moment. “This is going to hurt for a second Jay, one, two…” Bruce said calmly as he positioned his hands and before Jason could even prepare, there was a screeching pain that caused his legs to give out under him.

He  _should_  have collided with the ground, aggravating his injuries more than they already were. That’s how things normally worked out for him. But instead Bruce caught him in his arms and, in one swift motion, picked him up bridal style. The sudden shift in gravity was enough to remind Jason of his broken ribs and he took in a pained breath. Immediately Bruce’s attention was back on him as he walked briskly back to the Manor.

“What is it? Is it your ribs?” Jason nodded, leaning his head against Bruce’s shoulder as he felt the man pick up speed until he was nudging the half open patio door. “Alfred! Call Leslie and tell her we’re on our way over. Jason fell out of a tree and is pretty roughed up. When you’re done, we’ll be in the Mercedes.” And in another whirlwind, Jason found himself in the garage with Bruce awkwardly trying to open the door with his foot. Despite the injuries which were still screaming, he felt surprisingly comfortable there in Bruce’s arms, leaning into the soft material of the man’s polo shirt. It had been so long since he’d felt this safe and loved, in fact, he wondered if he’d ever been shown this level of care.

“Why are you doing this?” He mumbled, half under his breath, as Bruce settled him into the backseat of the luxury car and tucked one of the blankets over him. Jason’s head was swimming and he just wanted to close his eyes and go to sleep but he had to know. What was Bruce getting out of this? Jay had given him more than enough trouble; he wouldn’t have blamed the man if he let Jason suffer on his own. One of Bruce’s hand began playing with his hair.

“What do you mean? You’re hurt Jay and we’re going to get you checked out. You’ll probably be out of training, and tree climbing for that matter, for awhile, but you’ll be just fine.” Jason shook his head ever so slightly as he resisted the urge to sleep.

“Why would you help me?” Jay clarified brokenly, “my dad would never…” Bruce’s hand stilled and Jason wondered if he’d said the wrong thing. Was the billionaire going to run off and leave him there in the back of the car? It was what he should have expected but the thought left him feeling cold.

“I came because I heard you scream and I would never ignore a cry for help.” Again, strong fingers softly kneaded through Jason’s hair and he couldn’t help his sigh of contentment. It made him miss his mom suddenly and painfully. “But mostly because I was scared for you Jason. I-I care for you son; I don’t want anything to happen to you. I didn’t expect you in my life Jay, just like I didn’t expect Dick, but you’re mine now and I’m not going to let anything harm you.” Jason gasped softly but was halted from any more questions by the sound of Alfred getting into the drivers seat and slamming the door.

“Right, let’s go Alfred, I’m afraid he might have a concussion as well. He seems disoriented and confused.” Bruce said, closing the back door and entering the passenger seat. Jason didn’t even have a minute to miss Bruce’s touch when he felt him reaching back and awkwardly grasping Jay’s hand. “Don’t fall asleep yet Jason, we’ll be at the Clinic before you know it.” He squeezed Jason’s hand. “I’m here for you Jason, I’m not your father, I’m not going to let you go.” Jay couldn’t really remember much of what happened after that, but he did vaguely acknowledge Bruce picking him up again and taking him somewhere. He remembers thinking as he curled in closer to his guardian that Bruce wasn’t wrong when he said that he wasn’t Jason’s father, but he wasn’t quite right either.


	46. Bruce Gets Replaced

“Hey, I need your opinion on this case,” Clark said, floating up to him on the Watchtower. It was a relatively uneventful day so he and Tim were taking advantage of the peace to update the computer systems. He used to do this on his own but during the period he’d been lost in time, Tim had practically reworked the whole system. It’s not a bad thing; it’s as close to family time as he got these days with his third son. 

“Sure, just let me finish up and then I’ll-”

“Excuse you, B, he was talking to me,” Tim interrupted, not even looking up from the computer screen where he continued his typical loud, fast typing. “I’ll be with you in about 15 minutes, Mr. Kent, just got to walk the old man through the recent set of updates.”  _Old man?_  He glanced over at Clark whose eyebrows were in his hairline. He was usually pretty good with normal children but Bruce’s kids never had been normal. 

“It’s alright, Tim, I don’t want to interrupt you,” Clark said gently. Bruce could  _feel_ Tim’s eye roll as he spun around and locked eye with Clark in a piercing stare that had the Man of Steel straightening up.

“It’s fine, it’s a part of the job. Now, you need a detective, yes? Why would you go for last years outdated model when you can have the best. May I remind you that while Bruce was taking an extended time vacation, I was the one pushing back Ra’s al Ghul and keeping Gotham from collapsing and generally balancing all of the League’s bullshit. So, let’s stop wasting time worrying about B’s delicate feelings and get to work.”

Clark looked like a deer caught in the headlights and Bruce, well Bruce was filled with a familiar feeling of pride, amusement and despair. Pride because of Tim’s confidence and unmatched brilliance, amusement because the gall of this kid and despair because the Tim Drake he’d left would have never spoken so curtly to two heroes he’d once idolized. Not everything stays the same, time marches forward and not always in the ways we choose.

“I uh suppose I can’t argue with that,” Clark sighed but there there was definitely a small smile on his face. Just wait until Jon got to be this age, then he wouldn’t be smiling so much. “I’ll uh be outside when you’re ready.”

“No you two go on ahead, I may a little out of date but Tim’s showed me enough of his methodology that I think even an old fossil like me can figure it out,” Bruce explained. “And if I can’t, I do have the phone number of the World’s Greatest Detective.”

“Right,” Tim looked at him and it almost felt like the old times, just for a second.  He knew one day that Tim would surpass him, he just didn’t realize it would be so soon. Between the aches, Bruce is proud. “If the case ends up being simple, I’ll leave it for you. Can’t let you get too rusty in your old age.”

“That’s very kind of you,” Bruce deadpanned as Tim stood up and grabbed the file from Clark, looking over it as he walked purposefully towards the door. Clark gave him one last look before trailing after the boy who used to always walk just behind them. Somewhere along the line, Tim had drifted so far away from him, only now does he realize that the little messy haired boy who told him Batman needed a Robin was a man and a hero in his own right. 

Batman, the former Greatest Detective, went back to fixing up the Watchtower’s computer systems as best he could without overriding Tim’s brilliant and delicate coding. The future wasn’t just coming, it was already here. The next generation of heroes were taking the world by storm, learning from their mentors to become even greater. He smiled to himself, they certainly were leaving the world in good hands.


	47. Bruce Needs an Intervention

“Come in,” Bruce muttered absentmindedly as he stretched out his sore muscles. He was currently in his bedroom after a long patrol and he was more than ready to rest for a few hours.

Instead of Alfred coming in to disseminate some mundane, but important, news, it was Tim. Bruce raised an eyebrow at his newest partner who stood awkwardly in the doorway with a puzzled expression. He thought Tim was too old to ask to sleep in his bed but if it made the boy feel better, he would allow it. Bruce took a moment to preen on how well this mentoring thing was going. He guessed the third time really  _was_  a charm. “Hey champ, what can I do for you?”

Tim didn’t answer right away, instead continuing to look at Bruce with confusion and perhaps a bit of concern He had been hiding his hands behind his back up when he entered and now held a thick stack of papers before him, a stack Bruce recognized right away. He grimaced a little, he thought it would save time to keep adoption forms in his desk should the unexpected happen again. Obviously Tim had found them.

“It’s always best to be prepared Tim, that will be the next step of your Robin training. Always expect the unexpected.” He said with a small smile now becoming concerned by Tim’s cautiously neutral face.

“I thought I would come to you first Bruce because I don’t know the others well enough but,” Tim said taking a deep, steadying breath. “I think you have a problem, I want to help you. You can’t just adopt every child you see. You might need an intervention.” Bruce started to sweat at his 13 year old’s terrifying expression.

“It’s not like that Tim…" He said awkwardly, “I’m just trying to help out kids that need guidance and a place to feel safe.” Tim raised an eyebrow and Bruce coughed into his fist. “And yes to teach them the ways of Justice but Tim, come on, adoption isn’t an addiction.” Tim pursed his lips ad Bruce answered with a glare.

“Your concern is nice but unnecessary. Now, what do I need to do to buy your silence? A new motorcycle? a trip to Hokkaido for training? How about extra time learning the Cave’s computers?” Tim’s eyes lit up and Bruce knew he had him. He stepped forward to ruffle his boy’s hair while grabbing the papers out of his hand. “Like I said Timmy, it’s just a precaution. I’m not planning on taking on anymore kids.” Tim grinned up at him before nodding and running back off to bed. Bruce did a quick glance around the before closing his door and putting precious papers in a safe,  _locked_ , drawer. Just in case… 

He thought the incident was over an done with until a few years later he was pulling some of those sheets out for Cassandra and, later, Damian. And each time he did he could feel Tim’s eyes heavy and accusing as they bored into the back of his head. Bruce chided himself, he was being silly, he didn’t have a problem did he?

His grip tightened on the Batmobile as he passed an orphanage where a small, despondent child was crying on the front steps. He looked longingly at the child, slowing down the car a tad as he mentally calculated which room in the Manor he could put them up and what role they could fill on the team. But Tim’s hard, blank stare came back to him and he revved the engine and drove off. Maybe his most observant son was onto something.  


	48. Bruce and Tim Prank the League

“You want to do what?” Batman asked his 15 year old partner. The same partner who had exhibited maturity well beyond his years, had discovered his and Dick’s secret identities and managed to balance out being a teen superhero with his everyday life. Robin merely grinned up at him.

“C’mon Batman it’s just a little prank. It’ll be fun!” Batman raised an eyebrow and Robin made a show of rolling his eyes under his domino mask. He leaned forward to address his mentor conspiratorially and Batman admitted to being a bit wary. Tim was very persuasive when he wanted to be, case in point getting his mentor to change his mind about having a partner at all. But he was the Batman and he would not let a child’s whims get the better of him.

“You know, you’re such a stiff all the time no one will ever think it’s you. You can get out this scot-free and maybe someone more deserving of punishment will get the blame.“ Robin’s grin became quite devious and, against, his better judgement Batman found himself smiling back. “Maybe perhaps some showboating Lantern who nearly ruined last Mondays’ mission with his stunts?” Robin cocked his head. “Now wouldn’t that be nice?” Yes, very persuasive indeed.

XxX

“Hey Bats what are you up to?” The Flash asked stopping long enough to note that Batman standing alone in the middle of the watchtower hallway was a little bit strange, even for a man dressed as a bat. He glared at the speedster.

“Robin went to get something, I told him I would wait for him here.” The Flash shrugged, already dismissing the incident.

“Right, say hi to the kid for me, bye!” and with that he was gone leaving Robin just enough time to crawl out of the ventilation Batman had been covering up.

“Close one huh? Good thing an observant hero didn’t come along right?” Robin said cheekily as he finished screwing on the vent cover. Though Bruce cared for all of his children and side-kicks, he often found that Timothy was the only one who truly took after his own heart.

“Agreed, we must take care to avoid Manhunter and Wonder Woman.”

XxX

“Yo what’s wrong with the watchtower now? Anything I can do to help?” Batman frowned at the sound of Green Lantern Hal Jordan coming up behind him. He glanced over at Robin who looked up at the sudden entrance before going back to his welding as if nothing were wrong. “Hey B, are you sure you should be letting the 10 year old play with fire? I could show him how it’s done if you want.” Lantern said, still looking for a way to off of Batman’s ‘Idiots I want to kill’ list after last week’s performance. Robin huffed in indignation but kept up his work to ensure he didn’t mess up.

“First of all, he’s fifteen and secondly he rerouted the Justice League computers the other day so welding is perfectly within his capabilities. In fact, you are putting him in more danger sitting here distracting him. If something were to happen to him due to your negligence…” Terror flashed in the man’s eyes as he slowly backed away from the two bats.

“Right um sure,” Lantern chuckled nervously. “It looks like you two have everything in hand. Thank you for all your help, um America is thankful for your contribution.” He said quickly before scooting out of the room. Robin paused in his work and lifted the welding mask to give his mentor a rakish grin.

“Nice bluff there.” Batman blinked impassively.

“I meant every word I said.” Robin cooed mockingly as he pulled the mask down again.

“You’re so cute when you show actual, human emotion.”

XxX

“Do I even  _want_  to know?” Black Canary asked as she passed Robin in the hall dragging a large bag at least twice his size behind him. Just pulling it took all of his efforts. He paused in his huffing for a moment to shoot the woman an innocent expression she didn’t believe for one moment. She held up her hand to stall any excuses he was about to give.

“Don’t bother, I remember when both of your brothers were Robin plus Roy lived with us for a good while. Just tell me what places I need to avoid and for how long.” Robin smiled.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about but things tend to get a bit sticky in the main meeting room this time of year. You know how Mr. Jordan gets when there’s not a lot to do.” She gave him an approving look.

“Blaming Lantern huh? I’ll back you up, he’s hit on me one too many times. Now if I were you, I’d hit the back hallways. I think the Boy Scout will be down this way any minute.” Robin nodded and held out his fist.

“Thanks Canary, I owe you one.” She reciprocated his fist bump.

“No problem, us birds have to stick together. Be sure to remember that next time you’re feeling mischievous.”

XxX

The Justice League Watchtower, home to the greatest heroes the world has ever known, was in utter chaos. During the usual weekly meeting of the founding members out of nowhere came buckets of whipped cream followed by bright green sprinkles. Everything and everyone in the room was entirely coated in the sticky sweet treat.

While Martian Manhunter simply phased out of the concoction, the Hawkpeople were cursing as they stretched their matted feathers and Wonder Woman cursing as she got cream in some rather uncomfortable places. The Flash sped off to get cleaning supplies when he slipped on the dangerously slippery floor and crashed headfirst into the wall causing his Lantern friend to burst out laughing. The entire room turned to glare at him. At that moment, Batman and Robin opened the door and gazed at the wreckage. Robin had come in a few minutes before to borrow the Dark Knight for some homework help, thus ensuring his mentor’s suit was still dark and menacing. Robin whistled slowly.

“Wow that’s a lot of green, I think you went a little overboard this time Lantern.” And at that moment Hal Jordan knew he was being completely and utterly played. He held up his hands.

“It wasn’t me! I didn’t do this! Honest! Why the heck would I go to all this trouble to do this to  _myself_?” He pointed at the dynamic duo. “It was probably them, I caught them welding in here earlier! They’re just trying to pin this on me!” Superman grabbed the Lantern’s arm and gave him a disbelieving look.

“Look you got us, okay? At least be a grown-up and admit it.”

“And besides,” the Flash added as he regained his balance. “You’re blaming  _Batman_  for a prank? Seriously? His idea of a prank is misfiling paperwork.” As the Gotham natives listened to the rest of the room back up Barry’s claim, Batman brought up an arm to pat his boy’s shoulder. With how busy they were with crimefighting, it was good that they were spending some quality time together.


	49. Wayne Girls AU: Batgirls Complain About Damian

“Does anyone else find it creepy that Damian kind of stalks Rachel all the time?” Tabitha asked as she paused to blow on her Robin Red nail polish. Jan snorted next to her as she wiggled her toes to check and see if her usual black toe polish had dried. No matter how much they fought in costume and generally didn’t get along, she was always present for their monthly girls night of trashy TV and nail treatments. She called it ‘getting her slut on’ which Tab would be more offended by if she didn’t know Jan so well by now.

“Nah, it’s classic Freud, all kids go through a phase where they’re in love with their opposite gender parent. He’ll grow out of it, in the meantime, gather all the blackmail material you can.” Beth left her predecessor with a dry look.

“For one, Freud’s theory involved young pre-school aged children, not almost 13 year olds. Two, Freud has been disproven for years and was a creep and a weirdo.” Jan mockingly muttered something under her breath and waved her hand at Carter for him to grab her water bottle on the table since she couldn’t move. Carter almost always showed up at girls night just because he liked the company and he liked wearing nail polish. He obligingly reached over and handed Jan the water, not taking his eyes off the marathon of  _Real Housewives of Gotham_.

“Thanks C,” Jan said, taking a long swing from her bottle. “Ok, yeah, so Bruce’s little ninja kid is crushing on Wing, what’s the big deal? We all crushed on her, I know for a fact you weren’t much better than the kid and Rachel made you so hot you actively questioned your sexuality.” Another swig to enjoy the righteous blush burning on her younger sister’s face. Honestly, why was it so hard for Tab to admit she might be bi? Jan was and she sure as hell didn’t give a shit what other people thought about it.

“So it doesn’t bother you that Dami monopolizes all of Rachel’s time, in and out of costume and goes into attack dog mode whenever we try to hang out with her?” Tabitha said capping the polish and admiring her perfect as always handiwork. “I mean, yeah, Rachel’s always been a sanctuary for Robins but he’s going a little over the top don’t you think?”

“It really actually doesn’t, does it bother you Carter?”

“Why are the women always threatening to rip out each other’s weaves? Are these weaves so sacred that removing the will dishonor their families?” Carter speculates on the far end of the couch as he stuffed a handful of Doritos in his mouth.

“Yeah, see? You’re the only one getting up and arms over the brat. Let it go,” Jan made a face, “ok I know you can’t actually  _let things go_  like a normal human being but can you at least pretend like maybe you get along with the demon? It’d make Big Wing awfully happy.” She made grabby motion over to Carter. "BB, give me those damn chips, that’s a family size and according to Bruce we’re family so share goddammit.“ While Carter and Janis preceded to fight over chips, Tabitha brought a hand to her chin in thought.

“You never actually come by and see the little brat so you don’t know how he works. He’s testing me, he’s seeing how much of his shit I’ll take. He’s always calling me weak and unworthy and by allowing him to get away with this, I’m confirming his opinions. The only way I can beat him is to fight back.” Jan looks over dryly as she keeps grabbing for the chips only for Carter to move them every time she gets close.

“Or maybe you’re thinking too hard about a 13 year old’s crush and god _dammit_ Carter give me that bag.”

“Maybe but no one has ever accused me half-assing anything in my life.“ Beth brings a finger to her lips. "I need to humiliate him, make him back off from Rachel a bit let him know that she is not his possession. I need to show him how capable I really am. Plus I haven’t hung out with that bitch in forever since Dami keeps stealing her away, she hasn’t come to girls night in 3 months.” Carter apparently has eaten his fill of chips and let Jan finally grab the bag.

“Aha! Got ya! Yeah, and girls night got so much better without Mom hovering over me every 10 minutes asking  _how are you feeling_  and  _maybe you should talk to B, Jan_  or  _For the love of God stop killing people_.” Jan peers into the bag and curses, “you asshole, how could you have eaten the whole damn bag? Where do you keep all that weight?” She says shaking the bag upside-down only for a few crumbs to gently trickle out. Carter smiles at her but does not answer.

“I think I could probably train him to call her ‘Mom’, he is a boy after all, it’s not that difficult to tweak their brains a little bit.” Tabitha muses, going through plan after plan. “make him say it in front of the whole League, embarrass the hell out him. That’d make him back off for sure. I could do it while I mimic him, just follow him around and ask to spend time with him all day long and annoy him enough that he’ll be begging for some peace and quiet away from anyone, including Rachel.” She grabs her phone and flips through it. “I’m free Thursday after an early Titans meeting, I can head back afterwards and be at the Manor in time to begin my conditioning. I’ll just schedule that in now,” she says as she pushes some buttons. Janis levels her with a concerned look.

“You worry me Baby Bird, I don’t know how you got the reputation of being the innocent one.” Jan says with a shake of her head as she checks her toes. “I want to know how you’re able to trick that nice clone into dating you when clearly you’re the she devil.”

“How rude,” Tabitha huffs as she sets down her phone. “Of course Conner is aware of my talents and is as loving and supportive of my manipulations as he is everything else in my life."


	50. Billy's Nightly Ritual

“I can take care of myself you know,” Billy Batson muttered to himself while he sat on his too plush to be real bed in Captain Marvel’s room on the Watchtower. Currently, he was watching Superman pick out his pajamas for the evening. The Kryptonian just hummed as he settled on the Flash pajamas; unfortunately Billy’s Superman night clothes were in the wash. He’d have to pick up a few extra pair.

“We know, you keep telling us.” Clark said turning around and holding up the pajamas for Billy’s approval and was rewarded with a dry expression. Luckily he was used to the boy’s stubborn temperament and wasn’t discouraged.

“Just because I’m a kid doesn’t mean you guys have to baby me, you’re  _not_  my parents.” The boy huffed, accepting the pajamas as Superman held them out for him. He rolled his eyes as Clark turned his back, allowing Billy so privacy while he changed. It’s not like modesty was a big deal when you’re living on the streets but the gesture was secretly appreciated deep down.

“Of course not Billy, nor are we trying to be.” Clark answers genially, smiling to himself as he wonders if all children sounded like a herd of buffalo when they changed for if it was just this one. “But there’s nothing wrong with accepting a little help once in a while. Besides, we wouldn’t do this is we didn’t want to. You refuse to let anyone adopt you, you won’t accept any financial support from us or even consider going back into a foster home so we can’t help but worry about you.” He said calmly.

“Like I said,” Billy mumbled through the material of his shirt as he struggled to pull it over his head. “I can take care of myself. It’s not fair to all the other kids who don’t have the power and connections I do. I got all that I need to survive, I can’t ask for more.” And Clark needed to fight down the proud, beaming smile threatening to take over his face before turning back to face his teammate and friend.

When he first found out that the enthusiastic and innocent Captain Marvel was actually a 10 year old boy, he’d been angry and wondered how he could have earned the Wizard’s blessing. Now, after almost a year of interacting with both Billy and his alter ego, he knew that no one embodied the kindness and sense of duty like Billy Batson. While there are times when he got aggravated by the Captain’s childish antics, most days he realized that Billy is better than all of them.

“All done?” Clark asked cheerily, peeking over his shoulder once he heard Billy climb into bed.

“Obviously,” Billy huffed, crossing his arms. “Like I get that you guys feel obligated or whatever to make sure I don’t die but this,” Billy said gesturing to the room filled with toys and clothes and other odds and ends gifted to him by the League, “is crazy. I appreciate it, I really do, but I don’t need all this stuff.”  

“You’re right Billy; we do feel a bit responsible.” Clark began, sitting on the side of the bed. “You’re so self-sufficient Billy and you’ve done remarkably well on your own but think about how you feel when you see younger kids suffering through your circumstances and refuse your help.” Billy ducked his eyes and wrung his hands on the bedsheets. “And you’re not a chore, not ever. You’re our friend and our colleague and all we want is for you to be safe in and out of your hero life.” Clark said, gently pushing Billy down into the bed and pulling the covers over him. He’d been uncomfortable with this at first; he was used to dealing with children in the short term but that had never prepared him for bedtime rituals or other such domestic things. Over the last year he’d gotten better at it and had come to treasure these times, it made him want to broach the subject of children again with Lois.

“Yeah okay, it’s just I’m still not used to this… it’s kind of weird,” Billy whispered quietly, pulling the covers up over his mouth to muffle the words. Clark looked down at this boy who has suffered so much, spent years of his young life without love or support only to end up one of the kindest souls he’d ever met.  

“I know son, that’s why we’re here to support you as much as you’re comfortable with. We only insist you stay here at the Watchtower during the nights it’s too cold for you in Fawcett City and give extra help only when you ask.” He brushed back some of Billy’s thick black hair from his eyes, it was getting long again. They’d have to get him another haircut soon. “One of these days you’ll have to accept that we’re doing this because we care.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Billy said shyly, pulling down his covers a bit and trying to brush off the weight of the words being spoken. “Hal’s been reading me one of the Harry Potter books and he said he was gonna kick your ass if you didn’t read some more. He wants to get through book one by the end of the month when it’s warm enough for me to head back to the city.”

“Language,” Clark chided absentmindedly because really, that was a lost cause, as he searched the bedside table until he found a worn, well-loved copy of Harry Potter. He smiled as he flipped open the cover and saw  _Hal Jordan, age 14_ scribbled sloppily on the inside. “Alright, where were you?”

“Harry and Hagrid are at the bank picking up money for wizard school supplies.” Clark hummed, opening to the bookmarked page and began reading slowly and calmly, already knowing what was going to happen. Hal was being awfully optimistic about being able to finish book before Billy returned to Earth full-time. They were only ever able to get through five or six pages at most before, a light snore interrupted Clark’s narration and he smiled fondly to see Billy’s head lolled to the side in a comfortable slumber. He was actually quite jealous of the boy’s ability to fall asleep just like that but it showed that Billy now felt comfortable enough to leave himself vulnerable in their presence. Clark bookmarked the page, set it on the table and quietly turned off the light taking an extra few moments to observe the sleeping boy.

He’d be going on a deep space mission with the Green Lantern Corp starting tomorrow so he’d insisted on having this time with Billy before he left. There was a good chance that the boy would back in his dirty, unsafe abandoned building he’d been calling home by the time Clark returned. They could only keep him up here, safe and warm, for so long before the boy’s natural independence and sense of pride and fairness won out.

He leaned down and stroked his hair one more time before quietly exiting the Captain’s room. The situation was far from ideal but it was what it was. He knew Bruce had requested bedtime privileges tomorrow and he’s certain the Dark Knight will once again ask Billy to come live with him, Jason and Alfred. Maybe one day Billy will take them up on their many offers or maybe he’ll grow up into a wonderful, good-hearted man all on his own with their continued support. Either way, Superman knew that the League was just as lucky to have Captain Marvel’s strength and righteousness among their ranks as young Billy Batson was to have their help.


	51. Reverse Robin AU

It's 10pm on a Saturday night, it's dark and gloomy with a hushed chill in the winter air, a perfect night for crime. And instead Damian Wayne, original Robin, former Nightwing, current Batman, is sitting at his computer waiting. There will be no patrol for him or his young partner tonight, for today is his late father's birthday and the whole family will be celebrating it. If they show up that is.

Father never enjoyed his birthday when he was alive and, aside from the obligatory society parties, Damian never recalled there being any form of celebration in all the years he'd lived at Wayne Manor. Without turning his head, Damian looks over at the ten year old reason for this incongruous party. Grayson is sitting a few feet away on the floor of the Cave, humming some pop song while he finishes coloring the decorations for the party.

No one had expected Dick Grayson to appear in their lives, a spur of the moment addition to the family just months before Father passed. Damian least of all was expecting the energetic, charming boy to have wormed his way into his worn and bitter heart. So when Grayson had approached him with large, sad eyes about celebrating Father's first birthday since death; well Damian couldn't bring himself to refuse the boy. He wonders once more if that warm, unfamiliar feeling in his chest when he looks at his unofficial charge is love, and decides again that he'll never really know. The original Batman had never been one for the softer emotions.

But the real problem Damian faces is not the emotional conflict over his late Father's death, no, Damian had already grieved the man's passing and was honoring him by continuing his legacy. The real quandary is how to soften the blow for Richard when his party isn't as joyful as he had planned. Because despite the fact that they were a team and, most of them, related via adoption; they were a poor parody of a happy family. It would break his Robin's heart, who had his loving parents stolen too soon, when he realized just how broken the Bats really were.

"Master Damian, Young Master Dick," Pennyworth's voice announces, breaking through the quiet. "Master Jason has arrived with Miss Stephanie, they are waiting in the parlor if you would so kind as to join them." Damian smirks quietly; age certainly hasn't dulled the old man's sarcasm, if anything its gotten worse since Damian was a child. "Miss Cassandra sends her regrets that she cannot join this evening, but she hopes to back in the country within the next few months." Of course she wouldn't come; she wouldn't see the point in celebrating a dead man's birth. He'd been hoping she might have come anyway, if only to see him. Damian runs his hand down his face as he stands up. At least Todd and Brown showed up, maybe they've finally forgiven him for everything that's come to pass. Or perhaps they're only here because Grayson was incredibly persuasive when he had a mind to be, speaking of which.

"Did ya hear that Dami? Jay and Steph are here! Come on let's go, we can't keep them waiting." The boy cheers, stuffing his crafts under one arm while the other snaked around Damian's neck as he settles onto his favorite perch on Batman's back with his legs wrapped around the man's torso.

"I did indeed hear that, my ears aren't damaged after all," Damian teases stiffly as he walks towards the stairs with his little brother hanging onto his back. "Though I was not aware that your legs were broken given your tendency to bounce around all the time, can't you walk up by yourself just once?" Because he needs to ask, to pretend he has some semblance of authority in this relationship, to act as if the little boy doesn't have the Batman wrapped around his finger.

"I can't help it if you give the best rides. You're so tall; I feel like I can see the whole world from up here." Grayson grins, poking his head forward to rest on Damian's shoulder. He hadn't been here long but Damian swears he won't let any harm befall Dick; he would die before he let anything happen to his younger brother. He will never suffer Drake's fate.

"Hey Dami, do you think Bruce is proud of us? Do you think he'd approve of our partnership?" Grayson asks quietly just before they enter the parlor where already he can hear Todd and Brown arguing. "I mean I know I'm still new to this, but am I as good a Robin as you and the others?" He continues in a rare show of bashfulness as he slips back down to the floor.

"Of course Richard," Damian replies softly as he sets a gentle hand on the younger boy's back. "You are an admirable partner and an ever better brother. You've changed this house for the better, if you don't believe me then why don't you check out the parlor." Grayson sighs softly, leaning back into Damian's touch for a moment before racing off to greet the others with his usual exuberance.

"You realize of course that Master Wayne isn't just proud of the young Master," Alfred says coming to stand next to his eldest grandson. "He once told me that you were his greatest accomplishment, how despite your mother's attempts to turn you into a killer, you still chose the path of righteousness. I believe I speak for everyone when I say you're doing a marvelous job as Batman and head of the household, after all you and your father have endured, no one deserves the title more." Damian snorts irritably, a habit from his childhood he couldn't seem to break.

"While I admire the intent, I doubt Father had anything kind to say about my actions. He never liked that I spent the early years of my life training in the deadly arts. We were always at each other's throats about philosophies and fighting styles. I may have been his son in blood but our relationship was always difficult." Damian sighs as he steps forward, watching how easily Dick interacted with the other Bats. He was sitting comfortably in Brown's lap, wildly flailing his arms as he tells some story. "I tried to be a good son but all I seem to do is ruin the family he tried to create."

"I drove Cassandra away due to my desire for a relationship. You know he blamed me until the day he died for what happened to Drake; accused me of not stepping up as a brother. Todd lost any respect he had for me when I chose Grayson over him for my Robin and Brown has always done things her own way."

"And yet," Pennyworth says gently, mirroring Damian's earlier action with Dick by placing a gloved hand on his back. "Here they are Master Damian, you haven't ruined anything. Miss Cassandra needs time to sort out her own feelings and Master Jason holds you in the highest regard; his petty feud with you fades as he and the Master Dick settle more firmly into your roles. We've all made mistakes but you have learned from yours and dealt with them honestly which is more than your father ever did."

"I didn't know you were one to speak ill of the dead, Pennyworth," Damian intones dryly, already feeling a little lighter.

"And I never knew you to engage in something as droll as self-doubt," the butler quickly retorts. "Now off you go, this is a time for celebration, not a time for reflection. Go entertain your guests, if we're very lucky, Master Timothy will stop being so obstinate and join us for a spell." The older man huffs, clearly still bitter over the fact that Drake hadn't visited once since his miraculous resurrection. If Damian hadn't known of Grandfather's fascination with Drake, he just might have dismissed Mother's claim that the Demon's Head had brought his brother back to life. He'll track Drake down one of these days, but for now…

"Come on Dami!" Dick shouts, leaping off Stephanie's lap and rushing forward to grab his hand. "Alfred's gonna bring out Bruce's cake and we all need to sing Happy Birthday so he can hear it in heaven!"

"Alright, I'm coming but don't expect me to sing."


	52. Tim Talks to Secret About Ghosts

"Secret? Is everything alright?" Secret turned to look over at Robin as he shifted gracefully out of the shadows and sat next to her on the roof. "I hope I didn't scare you, it's kinda hard to turn off the sneakiness." He shrugged casually with a gentle little smile that she was already a little in love with.

As good as he was; he was still mortal. He, nor any living soul, could never truly sneak up on her. Her eyes darted briefly to the center of his chest where she could see,  _feel_ , his essence thrumming within him. She wondered briefly if seeing other people's life force is so easy for her because she's keenly aware that her own is missing in stark comparison. She smiled back and tucked a strand of wisp like hair behind her ear as if it were real and Robin couldn't see right through her, literally.

"Oh no, it's fine. I was just enjoying the sunset," she said softly, turning again to face the sun as it sank lower in the sky. "I didn't have much of a view while I was a prisoner with the DEO; I'd forgotten how beautiful it was." Robin hummed slightly as they sat in silence while the sun began its final descent.

"So you had a life before the DEO? I thought you said you'd always been there?" He questioned lightly because that's what Robin does, question and consider everything. It's what makes him such a good leader. Secret squirmed slightly and her mist clung closer to her, like a protective blanket.

"You say  _'life_ '," she teased gently trying to play off her discomfort. His eyes widened behind his mask and an adorable blush ran up his neck onto his face.

"Oh jeez, I'm such an idiot, I didn't mean-"

"I know Robin, it's okay." Secret closed her eyes. "To be honest, I don't really know myself. I-I don't have any memories outside of the DEO but, I remember songs from the radio, I know what ice creams tastes like, I know how pretty a sunset is and that it's my favorite time of day." She sighed softly, not out of necessity but for the moment it gave her to collect herself.

"I can feel… like there was something before the DEO but I'm not sure I want to know what it is. I mean, that must sound silly, not wanting to know about myself but I'm just so afraid of what I'll find." She looked down at her hands, pale and shifting, barely able to stay solid and incapable of feeling. "I'm afraid of what happened to me to make me like this."

"No Secret, that's perfectly reasonable and not silly at all." Robin soothed quietly next to her; the sun was almost down and the shadows are covering his face but she can feel his sincerity. "I can understand that you're afraid but we're here for you now. You're part of the team Secret, as long as you want to be and if you decide you want to find out what came before, I can promise we'll be there to help and support you." Within the emptiness inside of her, she felt warmth as tears prickled in the corners of her eyes.

"Thank you Robin," she whispered as the sun finally disappeared and they're covered in darkness. "You, you've all been so kind to me. I can't believe you'd be so open and kind to a ghost like me, aren't you afraid of me? Even a little?" She asked, fearing the answer.

"I've only been doing this hero thing for a few months now and I've seen things a lot scarier than ghosts and I can tell you right now most of those threats are human." His voice was light but there's an undercut of somberness to it. It made her wonder what exactly happened over there in Gotham, what Robin did when he's not with the Team. "Besides, I guess I feel like I can relate to how you feel. Sometimes I feel like a ghost too."

"What's that supposed to mean?" She asked incredulously because how can this living, breathing boy sit here and compare their situations?

"Woah, I'm sorry, I didn't mean any offence it's just," a frustrated sigh escaped his lips. "I don't know how far your knowledge goes but, I'm not the first kid to be Robin. You've heard us talk about Nightwing; he was the first, the best arguably and then there was..." Robin puts his head in his hands. "Okay, can you keep this a secret? It's really important and Batman will have my head if he knows I told anyone and I really don't want the Team knowing about this."

"Secrets are in my name… so this second Robin, did he..." She trailed off cautiously.

"Die? Yeah, he got beaten half to death by the Joker before being blown up in a warehouse. Batman says he used the last bit of his strength to save his mother, that even at the end he was still fighting the good fight." There's so much longing and sadness in his voice that the last of her anger leeched out of her. Death, that seems to be the only thing she really understood.

"I'm so sorry Robin," she murmured as he lightly shrugged.

"Don't feel bad for me, I didn't know him. I used to watch him and Batman from a distance, follow them around with a camera. He was so amazing Secret, I wish you could've seen what a real Robin looks like in action, it's something else." He responded with a quiet sort of awe in his voice that confused her.

"A real Robin? I don't get it,  _you're_  Robin." She questioned as he brought his knees up and hugged them to his chest.

"I'm nobody, a temporary placeholder for someone who could never be replaced. Ja- that other Robin was like Batman's son, I'm just some dumb kid who wandered into the part. Here I am, wearing a dead boy's costume, using his name like it's my own, trying to be as easy and outstanding as he was and falling short every time." He turned away from her, putting his chin on top of his knees. "Batman needs a Robin but he doesn't need  _me_. I'm a living ghost. People look at me and they see the costume; they see everything  _he_  was and I'm just standing in that long shadow behind him."

"Robin," she whispered while Robin just shook his head and uncurled himself.

"Look, I didn't mean to drop all that on you. It's got nothing to do with you, I'm sorry, that comparison was in poor taste. Come on, the guys are probably wondering where we're at." He deflected as he gets to his feet. "I mean, for however long I'm here, however long Batman lets me wear the mask; I'm going to my best for the Team and maybe save a few people along the way. That should be enough for anyone, right?"

She reached out and grabbed his wrist, making herself as solid as she could but he could still easily pass through her grip. She looked up at him with his face shrouded in darkness and could feel the same sort of loneliness she lived with every day. She supposed there were many different kinds of ghosts.

"I don't know much about Batman, but you're the only Robin I've ever known and I think you're pretty amazing. This Team needs you, not the other Robin and not Nightwing,  _you_. We may both be ghosts but we still have a choice in how real we are. You can stay in the dead boy's shadow, or you can step out of it and be your own hero." His other gloved hand reached over and rested delicately on top of her hand.

"Thanks Secret, really," Robin replied warmly. "And the same goes for you too. You're not defined by the DEO or by whatever happened before; you're our friend and our teammate before everything else. I guess we can help each other become less like ghosts and more like people." His care and his attention towards her was intoxicating, she wished it could be like this all the time. Just her and Robin, two living ghosts who understood loneliness and death and how it could tear people apart. But it could also bring them together.

"Yeah," she sniffled. "Let's become real people together."


	53. Reverse Robin AU 2

He knew being Batman would be difficult and Damian knew from a young age that the burdens that came with the cape and cowl would be more than physical. But he had underestimated just how strenuous maintaining the mantle would be. It’s almost 5 am, Dick is upstairs sleeping and Pennyworth is probably getting some well-deserved rest as well. It’s only at times like this, that he allows himself to feel the weight and tragedy of the Batman name.

And he finds himself during these times, curiously enough, missing his father desperately. These periods of unexpected grief are becoming more frequent, ironically, as Damian becomes more settled into his role as Batman. Because as similar as he and his father could be, he just wasn’t the Batman like Father had been. Back when he’d been an angry young man, there had been times in fits of rage when he’d wished his father’s death. Now, nearly a year after the man’s passing, Damian realizes just how much he’d come to rely on that stern and steady presence in his life.

Sometimes he even thinks about what he would give to have just a few more hours, a few minutes even, with his father again. He wants to ask how he coped with the darkness the cowl brought, ask if he’s doing a good job with Dick, raising him into a man they all could be proud of. He wants to know what to do about Drake who still won’t make his presence known or how to keep Todd from phasing out of the family entirely. Mostly he wants to know if, despite everything Damian has done in and out of costume, if Father ever truly loved him? Or if he had taken his son in out of guilt and put up with him in exchange for a partner in his never-ending war on crime.

“Power is a burden isn’t it?” A quiet but steady voice says, echoing ominously through the cave system and making it impossible to locate. Damian stands up, all senses on alert as he locks down the Cave and, more importantly, all entrances to the Manor above. “You strived for the cowl all your life but the reward wasn’t as sweet as you were hoping, was it big brother?”

“Drake?” Damian demands hearing his own astonishment thrown back at him by the walls of the Cave. Former Robin, Tim Drake, had died tragically young and been resurrected years ago by his Grandfather out of some misplaced delusion that he could use the boy’s brilliance against the family. But Drake had always been a wily one, more so after death, and after getting every bit of skill and training from the Demon’s Head: Tim had disappeared into the ether. His ghost had hung over the family for years but as the Red Hood, he’d been Gotham’s most dangerous, and most mysterious, criminal vigilante. Hood worked behind the curtain, manipulating small time crooks into killing others and using his computer talents to snatch up their leftover assets. He’d been Batman’s greatest mystery for years before a small slip had revealed who was really behind the hood and threw the already fracturing family into a downward spiral.

But even after his identity was revealed to them, Drake still kept his distance. He made no moves to contact anyone and seemingly had no concern for all the death and destruction he’d caused in the underworld. The only time he’d communicated with them had been via a simple handwritten note, forgiving Batman for not saving him but not understanding why the man refused to change his methods to suit the growing unrest in the city. In the note, he promised to do what Batman could not, he promised to save Gotham City from itself by cutting down every lowlife who threatened her. He’d signed his name at the bottom, though the ink was blurred and smeared by the time they’d arrived at the scene; the congealing blood from the Joker’s dead body having stained the bottom half of the note.

“Wow, you really have taken up the title of the World’s Greatest Detective,” Drake drolls in that patronizing, sarcastic way that had so aggravated Damian back when he’d first been introduced to the shy new Robin. “You never were as good as the old man though. It must kill you to know that even with him out of way, you’re still struggling to claw your way out of his shadow.” Damian clenches his fists painfully at the too-true remarks before stepping away from the computer and towards the center of the Cave. There's no point in trying to locate him; Drake had been evading the collective family for half a decade, he knew how to stay hidden. And besides, Damian deserves this; after all, the boy’s death was just as much his fault as it was Father’s.

He’d known how emotionless and distant the Bat could be and how damaging that attitude would be for a scared, neglected boy who would do anything for his heroes. And instead of helping Tim, giving him the attention and care he’d deserved, Damian had pushed his buttons and behaved cruelly out of anger and jealousy that he’d been so easily replaced.

The combined treatment had driven Drake to attempt to prove himself by concocting a crazy plan to capture the Joker which had ended with his death. There were few things Damian regrets more in his life than his sickening abuse of a lonely, but ultimately good, kid. Whatever reason Drake is here for, Damian knows it was well deserved and he would take his punishment with dignity. He is at least assured that Drake wouldn’t harm Dick, Pennyworth or the others; Tim knew what it was like to be injured without cause.

“You’re still so brave Damian; it’s what I always admired about you. You weren’t always fair or even kind, but you’re always willing to stand up for what you believed in.” The disembodied voice answers.

“What do you want Drake, or should I call you Hood now? You’ve had years to get your revenge, revenge that you have earned, so why here? Why now? You missed your opportunity with Father, Darkseid beat you to it. So tell me, before you do whatever you came here for, why does my younger brother call on me now?” Damian says with no waver in his voice, all he has is the guilt that unintentionally helped someone he cared for end their life and the knowledge that he has done everything in his power since then to make up for it. He straightens his back, squares his shoulders and readies himself for the price he must pay for the sins of his youth.

“I’ve seen you with him, with Richard, sometimes with Jason too.” Drake says quietly after a minute. His voice is closer now, coming from somewhere behind Damian but the man doesn’t turn to look. “You look at them with such care and fondness. I’ve seen them both mess up more times than I can count, but you’re always there to save them, to chastise them so they won’t repeat my mistakes.” The unspoken words hang in the air between them, the whispers of a relationship that could have been, a desperate love that was freely given but met with spite.

Damian often reflected on the man Tim would have become had Damian been gentler with him. He wonders if they’d have been close, if they would have been brothers. But it wasn’t meant to be, they’d been different people back then, they’d just come across each other at the wrong time.

“Because I love them Tim, just as I loved you, even though I hadn't known it at the time,” Damian responds softly, knowing that his brother can hear him regardless. “I was angry at Father for replacing me just months after I quit, for heaping praise upon you when I could hardly get an acknowledgement. When you died, I realized that my selfishness had consequences. I did my best to guide the others, to be there for them in ways I wasn’t for you. I live my life so no one else need suffer because of my actions. It does not change what I did or what you did, but it is the truth.” The chair behind him squeaks loudly, too loud to have been anything but deliberate and Damian turns and looks at his brother for the first time in 5 years.

It shouldn’t be a shock that he’s older, but it is. Tim’s once childishly round face is gaunt, angled by age and hardships. It’s hard to tell with him sitting in the chair but it’s obvious he’s grown taller too, not much, but enough to separate him from the boy he was. His eyes are sharp, steel blue that has been tempered and burn half-crazed, bright like cinders. He’s pale, paler than Damian remembers him being, he’s thin and tired looking with his slightly too long hair and oversized sweater. Drake gives him a few moments to drink in the sight before smirking.

“Bruce is alive,” he states simply. “I was always suspicious of his death; it was too neat, too perfect. You may have noticed my decreased activity in Gotham the last few months, that’s because I’ve been all around the world, following the clues from Paris to Iraq.” He folds his long fingers together and leans his chin on top of them. “Bruce isn’t dead, he’s trapped in time and I can get him back.”

“Tim,” Damian says in a daze, feeling too many things at once that he can only just stand there and shake his head like a fool. “But why?” He eventually manages to ask amid all the thoughts. Tim shrugs, leaning back in the chair that is far too big for him but it still feels like he’s completely in control.

“Because, terrible or not, he was my father and a terrible parent is better than absent ones.” His eyelids drop as he tilts his head and studies him. “And because, against my better judgment, I find myself missing this home, this family. I see that you’ve made this into a better place and I want it to stay that way for the new Robins.”

Tim stands with all the elegance of a cat and walks over to Damian until he’s mere feet from him. “I’ve made progress in Gotham, no matter you and Bruce’s antiquated morals say, I won’t give that up, but I might be willing to compromise. Together, we can get Bruce back, we keep the kids safe, we try again to be a family and make things right.” He extends his hand. “What do you say?”

Damian knows what Father’s answer would be. He’d refuse anything but Drake’s complete submission, force the boy to conform to his world view or risk being ostracized forever. But Damian has grown tired of maintaining Batman’s rigid set of rules, and Drake is right in that Gotham has outgrown certain aspects of Batman’s code. He doesn’t like that his brother is a killer, that he’s basically taken control of all the notable criminals within city limits. But that doesn’t mean he’s any less his brother or that Damian has missed him any less. When they bring Father back, he’s sure there’s going to be a very loud, very angry conversation. But for now, they can negotiate. He grasps Tim’s hand.

“Show me what you’ve got.”


	54. Family Photos

"Oh! Mr. Grayson, good morning, sir! We weren't expecting you in today. Is there something I can get you? Coffee? Tea? I can have breakfast brought up for you." Bruce's flustered secretary chirped nervously as Dick exited the elevator. It took all of his training not to roll his eyes all the way up to the Watchtower. This is one of the reasons he didn't come to Wayne Enterprises all that often; being simultaneously fawned over/feared as The Boss's Son had gotten old really quickly. But Damian needed some important school forms signed and Bruce would be leaving for a meeting in Star City in a couple of hours.

"No it's fine Gloria, I won't be here long, I just need to borrow Bruce for a second. Is he in?" Still looking somewhat like a deer in the headlights, Gloria shook her head.

"No sir, Mr. Wayne is discussing the upcoming business trip with Mr. Fox. But I'm sure he'll be back very soon. Would you like to wait for him in his office?" She tittered nervously. Dick shrugged, not much else he could do.

"Sure, that'll be fine. No, don't get up, I have it. Tell Bruce I'm waiting for him and I'm in a bit of a hurry." He said, holding up his hand when Gloria rose to get the door for him. Honestly, just because he was adopted by a billionaire didn't make him royalty. He opened and closed the door quickly, leaning heavily against it and letting out a long sigh. Damian had better appreciate all the work Dick was doing to ensure he could go on his class trip to the Zoo.

Dick took in the room and realized two things. One, it had been a while since he'd been in Bruce's office. Two, was that there were more pictures decorating the walls and tables than should be allowed in one space. There were certainly more pictures up than there had been last time he was here. A lot more.

Dick blinked owlishly as he looked around the office, at the walls covered in various pictures of his friends and adopted family. Even Bruce's desk was packed to the brim with various pictures in frames or stuck to the monitor of his computer. How could he even get any work done with the amount of room those frames took up?

He looked at one sweet picture of Bruce and Cass dancing at one of the WE charity events. There's another of Tim shaking hands with some foreign dignitary after closing some big deal with Bruce beaming proudly behind him. Dick smirked as he paused on an old, old picture of him and Bruce on a fishing trip. Man, he couldn't have been more than ten at the time. Things had been so easy back then.

He thinks back to when he was younger, when Bruce would drag Dick down to office just because he had no place else to put the precocious child. He remembers how big and empty this place had seemed, with only a fichus plant in the corner to liven the room up. Now it seemed to be bursting with love of not just his weird adopted family, but there were a picture of the Daily Planet reporters and one of Leslie Thompkins at her clinic. Even an old, well-loved picture of Bruce's parents graced the desk as if to prove how far Bruce had come.

"Dick, what are you doing here?" Dick jumped as Bruce's voice somehow appeared right next to his ear. His adopted father gave him a look that was half amused and half annoyed. "Your training is slipping. I hope there's no emergency. I already had to push off this meeting one time due to Damian's ear infection and we can't afford to do it again." Dick laughed suddenly, wondering just when that cold and bitter man he had met at a circus had become such a good person and father. "What's so funny?" Bruce asks suspiciously.

"Nothing, nothing, here just sign this and Damian will able to go to the zoo. I'll tell him to take pictures so you can add it to your collection."


	55. Bruce Teaches Jason to be a Gentleman

"Ok son, I need you to sit up straight." Bruce instructed calmly, trying not to groan in aggravation as Jason instead chose to sink further into his chair. It would be a sign of weakness, one that Jason would take as a victory in this long drawn out battle. "Jason please, you need to work with me here." Jason stuck out his lip in a pout.

"I don't see why I have to," the boy murmured and Bruce rolled his eyes to the heavens. Martha Wayne would have a fit if she saw her adopted grandson behave so childishly in an antique chair.

"Because the Wayne Foundation is putting on it's annual charity ball and you need to have a very basic concept of manners in order to attend. You've been hiding in the house for nearly three months now, you need to make your debut to society eventually." Jason snorted carelessly, giving his own generous eye roll. This was proving to be more difficult than he'd thought, it hadn't been a cake walk with Dick either but at least the boy had tried.

"Jay, I understand that this is new and unfamiliar and, I'll be square with you, I hate all this pomp and circumstance myself. But it's part of a legacy I inherited from my parents, one of the only things I have left of them and so I need to do my part to uphold it. Since I took you in, you became a part of this family and that means you have certain responsibilities such as behaving when in public." Jay wrung his lips nervously.

"Ok yeah but I don't see why I gotta do all this crap. You know that no matter what I do, they're all going to laugh at me. I don't want them to think I'm just your cute little side project, some joking attempt to turn a dirty street rat into a proper aristocrat, because… It's not like that B, you like me even if I can't tell which fork is which, right?" Jay asked, looking up with trepidation.

Bruce frowned and knelt down to Jason's level, placing his hand on the boy's tiny knees. "Jay, no of course not. I like you because you're clever in ways I could never be, you're insightful and passionate and everything I could ever hope for in a partner." Despite his best efforts, a small smile appeared on Jason's face so Bruce pressed on.

"I'm not going to deny that people are probably going to say nasty things about you, even to your face. Dick went through that himself growing up and I can't imagine things will have much improved. But they don't know you boys like I do, they don't see that you're worth ten of those boring society bores who's only contribution to society is gossip and petty squabbles." He stood up and held out his hand, pleased when Jay put his much smaller one in it. He pulled the boy out of his slump.

"There's always going to people who think they're better than you Jason, no matter what circles you run in, but you can't let the fear of discrimination stop you from trying. There's more to being a gentleman than looking cool and handsome, it's about being honorable and intelligent and brave in the face of danger. All things Robin would need to know, but more importantly, things every man needs to succeed in life." He said, giving Jay a little twirl eliciting a quiet giggle.

"So it's your job to prove them wrong, to show just how much a gentleman you can be. I'll show you the boring parts you just need to know, how to talk the talk and walk the walk. But I do expect you to take the more important lessons to heart if you truly want to grow into a good man." He looked down at his boy and was pleased to see the sour look had gone, replaced instead by that determination that had first interested Bruce. Just because he was looking so dashing in his nice shirt and pants, Bruce leaned down and gave Jay's cheek a little pat.

"Are we ready to try again Mr. Todd? Mr. Pennyworth has prepared lunch for us in the dining hall, it will be an excellent opportunity to practice your skills." Jay squared his shoulders and puffed out his chest as if going to war. A sly sort of look danced across his face.

"Will there be dessert afterwards?" He asked only for Bruce to look scandalized.

"Why Mr. Todd, it would be downright shameful to deny a gentleman his dessert after he's been working so hard and successfully beating back all the annoyances and blowhards he needs to deal with." The two of them linked arms and laughed all the way to the dining room.


	56. Timmy Todd Meets the Spoiler

Tim loved being able to patrol on his own, he still went out with B or Wing most nights but usually once a week he was allowed to go solo for a few hours. Bruce couldn't have bought a better birthday present. It had been a slow night tonight: he'd stopped a gang of muggers, strongly discouraged a couple of teens from illegally buying liquor and brought down a dirty cop, nothing too monumental but that fact that he'd done it all on his own made him feel as big as the Bat himself.

He's perched on the top of the Gotham Life building now, it getting close to 3 am which is his mandated time to be back at the cave. He figures he can get in one more swing across town; if he starts now, he can take the long way back to the Cave and be back before anyone can get their feathers ruffled. He pulls out his grapple and enjoys the free fall for a few seconds before beginning his route. Man, this was the best, no other kid got to do stuff like this.

A flash of movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention. He redirected his swing and rolled gently onto the roof where he saw the movement. Slipping into the shadows, he creeps forward until he spots his target. Some freak dressed up in a purple and black costume, sitting on the roof's edge with a pair of binoculars and a collection of snacks around them. They may have a lousy sense of fashion, but at least they're prepared.

"If you're bird watching, you're only going to find Bats and Robins at this time of night." He teased and grinned as the person shrieked quite loudly leading to two surprises. One, the shriek was loud and incredibly high pitched, a girl's scream. Two, the girl wasn't as foolish as he first thought cause she instantly spun around and decked him hard enough to send him flying.

"You scared me half to death you jerk!" The girl said as she gathered up her things. She sounded more angry, no trace of remorse or fear, even as Robin was still seeing stars from her punch. "You almost ruined everything! He could have heard us and then I'd have never found him again! Thanks a lot boy blunder!" She shouted as she took a running leap and jumped over to the next roof. Tim shook his head and groaned in aggravation, who did this girl think she was? Batgirl?

"Who's getting away?" He asked running after, easily able to catch up to her. She may be spunky but she's not half as athletic as he was. She had no business running around on rooftops in a costume without training, so why was she here? He grabbed her arm and forced her to stop, keeping far enough back that she couldn't hit him again. "Look I'm sorry for scaring you, but with that punch we're even. Now tell me what's up or I'll calling in the big guy and trust me, he's not as friendly as I am."

The girls huffed as she forcefully yanked her arm away but she doesn't look like she's going to run again so he let her. "Look, I was trying to do this without involving any of you people, but you might as well help me if you're here." She muttered going through her bag until she pulled out a picture. "This is Cluemaster, a cheap Riddler knock-off. He's a total tool, thinks he's so clever but he's just another con man. I uh got some intel that he'd be trying to break into the Gotham bank and since you Bats don't have a 1-800 number, I figured I'd grab him myself. He's been holed up here with his gang for the last three days but I think tonight's the night of the heist, they've been preparing a van and guns all night."

Tim's eyebrows were so high up he's surprised they haven't flown off his face. "So you just magically acquired information about a possible criminal heist?" The girl nodded, "and you didn't think of just, I don't know,  _calling the police_  like anyone else?" Tim could sense her rolling her eyes underneath her mask.

"It's not like he's the Joker or anything, just another lowlife trying to take the easy way out. The police have bigger fish to fry, so I thought I'd take him out, the hard way." She added, thumping her fist into her other palm with such confidence, Tim thinks he's a little bit in love with this crazy girl. "You in bird boy, or does the little Robin need to be back at his nest?" She teased as she took another running start and landed on the roof next to them. She turned and posed just for him. He's certain this girl was going to get him killed and he couldn't bring himself to be all that upset about it.

"What do I call you? I'm guessing you won't give me your name."

"I can't let you have your way all the time bird boy." He heard the girl chuckle lightly behind her mask. "I guess you could say my name is something of a spoiler, and since we're about to spoil the night of a bunch of lowlifes, why don't you call me The Spoiler." Even with her face covered, he could feel her grinning. "Now are you coming or what?" She teased as she turned and ran across the roof. Tim grinned and shook his head.

"Robin to Batcave," Tim said into his comm unit, "come in Batcave."

"Hey Little Wing, it's nearly 3 and your tracker says you're nowhere near the Cave. You better have a good excuse for not being halfway here already." Nightwing said, trying to play the big brother role for a change. Tim smirked and leapt off the building and did an impressive triple flip to show off for his new friend. The girl gave a little laugh and kept going in the direction of the bank.

"I have a source that says the Gotham Bank is going to be robbed by Cluemaster. We're going to check it out, tell B I'll be a little late."

"We? Who's with you?" Dick asked as Tim continued to chase after her.

"Oh just me and my date."


	57. Timkon: Wish You Were Here

‘Tim,’ he hears his name being whispered and he turns to face the familiar voice so naturally because it’s only been a few hours. He still hasn’t quite accepted that… Tim stops halfway and clenches his fists within his cape. It’s worn and torn from the stress of the battle, the yellow lining is marred with dirt, soot and blood. His blood. ‘Why won’t you look at me?’ Conner’s voice asks softly in his ear but Tim doesn’t try to look again. He knows he’s only going to find empty air and right now that just might be too much for him.

“You’re not real,” Tim rasps out finally after a minute of silence, his voice still raw from all the screaming and crying he’s done. “You’re a manifestation of my grief, of my inability to let you go.” There’s no one else in the Cave right now and the feel the world feels unnaturally still with only Tim and his ghosts in it.

‘Doesn’t mean I’m not real.’

XxX

‘The statue’s a bit much don’t you think?’ Conner laughs into his ear as Tim is talking quietly to Cassie outside Titans Tower near the bronze statue put up in Conner’s honor. Tim’s voice doesn’t falter, doesn’t hesitate but behind his mask he closes his eyes as if that will make the apparition go away. Cassie somehow seems to sense after a minute that his heart is no longer in the conversation and softly excuses herself leaving him with a kiss on the cheek and a ghost at his back. 'If you aren’t careful, people will think you care.’

Tim thinks he catches a glimpse of black and red out of the corner of his eyes but it could also be 4 days without sleep and a nervous breakdown right around the corner. ‘Tim don’t just stand here all alone,’ Conner’s voice says and Tim can almost imagine the way Kon would stand at his back, a calm and reassuring presence in the toughest of times. He’s even here now, when Tim is feeling at his lowest. It makes him want to breathe again, the feel of that familiar comfort. Tim wants to remind Kon that he’s not alone until he remembers sinking feeling that he is.

XxX

“I miss you,” Tim says into the wind from the top of one of Gotham’s skyscrapers. It’s late to be out, dawn will be here soon but he can’t bring himself to return to the darkness of the Cave just yet. Conner always looked so much better in the sun. “I miss you so much I don’t know what to do with myself.”

‘You carry on, like you’ve always done.’ Kon says, his voice tinged with amusement. ‘You’re Robin; you always know what to do.’

“Not this time, Cassie stopped me from cloning you. She said it was wrong and unhealthy and I needed to heal but I don’t know how. Tell me what I need to do and I’ll do it.” He wraps his cape around himself, watching the sky slowly become lighter and lighter as morning approached.

‘You need to let me go Tim,’ Conner says, ‘you still have Cassie and the rest of the Titans. There’s Dick and B and Alfred. You don’t need me, you never did.’ Tim is silent as the first rays of sunlight appear and bounce off the glass and metal and stone making the city shine. ‘You know I’m right Tim.’ But Tim doesn’t respond and instead continues to watch the sunrise until B is on the comm telling him to get back to the Manor.

XxX

He feels like he can’t breathe, he struggling so hard but it doesn’t feel like he’s getting enough oxygen. He feels like he’s drowning, being pulled under into this never-ending pit but no matter how much he fights, he can’t move. Tim can feel himself shaking violently, sprawled out on the floor of his bedroom as what feels like a truck sits on top of his chest. He’d hoped sleeping would help his constantly firing brain to slow down for once, to stop beating him down with all his failing but instead it seems to have picked up in pace. While he’s mentally cataloguing all the symptoms of panic attacks, he’s also thinking of Dick down in the Cave with Bruce’s remains an imagining what he’s doing. He’s got a handful of half-crazed ideas about Bruce’s death running through his head but he can’t concentrate on one they’re so chaotic. And while all that is happening, he’ struggling to remember the last thing he said to his dad, to Bart, to Bruce, to Conner.

‘You wished me luck before I left to go fight Superboy Prime,” The voice returns, a calm port in the chaotic storm of his mind. “You said that you’d buy dinner if I came back alive, so I guess the meal’s on me.’ Tim is still gasping for breath on the floor, trying to slow down his mind and relax his body. ‘Shh you need to calm down, you’re going to give yourself a heart attack.’ There are tears streaming down his face and he wants to tell the ghost in his mind that he doesn’t care. He’s too sad, too tired, his heart too worn to keep on beating through all this pain. But against his will the terrible, clenching feeling begins to subside. He can hear his breathing start to slow down and even out, bit by bit his muscles relax until he’s just lying there.

‘Go get Dick,’ Conner’s voice implores, soft but strongly. ‘You can help each other get through this.’ But Tim doesn’t get off the floor, instead remaining there for hours, maybe even days hoping for the voice to come back and reassure him but it never does.

XxX

‘Go back home, Tim.’ Kon’s voice says gently from the dirty hotel room Tim’s holed up in currently. He can’t even remember what city he’s in, what state, just that it’s away from Gotham. ‘You shouldn’t be out on your own, you’re not well.’ Tim slams his fist into the sticky mattress he’s sitting on.

“Why? Because I believe Bruce is alive? Because Dick called me crazy and gave my costume that little brat?” Tim hisses out between his teeth, he’s angry and he’s hurt and his guilt and grief have stopped their constant battling and turned upon the stubborn hope that’s bloomed in his chest. He knows Bruce is alive, he can’t prove it, not yet, but he will and doesn’t need anyone’s help to do it.

‘I believe you,’ Conner assures him and for a minute Tim feels relief until he remembers this is all a trick in his mind. ‘Go back to Gotham; explain to Dick what you found. He can help you, him and that new kid.’ Tim folds in on himself, curling his lanky arms around his knees.

“They kicked me out, pushed me aside to make room for Bruce’s kid.” He begins to laugh, “I don’t even really blame them, I’m a mess. Look at me, I’m talking to ghosts.” His hysterical laughter subsides as he leans his head wearily onto his folded arms. He’s so tired; his brain feels heavy and sluggish. His plans keep coming and going, no matter how sure he’d sounded to Dick before he left, he can’t help but wonder if he really is going mad and this is all in his head.

‘Tim if you keep this up you’re going to die,’ Conner pleads softly in his head which Tim only responds by burying his face deeper into his arms. He doesn’t want to die exactly but right now living doesn’t seem so great either.

XxX

“Tim,” Conner’s voice says for about the fourth time but again Tim doesn’t respond. He’s better than he was in the days, weeks, months following Conner’s death. He’ll be closing in on the means to bring Bruce back from where Darkseid trapped him in time, he’s talking to Stephanie again, he’s on his way to repairing his relationship with Dick and he’s developing his own solo hero reputation. Tim found himself genuinely smiling the other day at something Tam said, he’s since forgotten what it was but he just remembers how his mouth had curled up into a smile without a motive or deflection behind it. It was nice. “Talk to me, you’re starting to freak me out.”

But Tim didn’t need the voice, didn’t need his grief over his best friend to keep him going any longer. All those whispered conversations with no one, the imagined touches to his arm, those well-meaning words of advice that filtered through Tim’s ear at his darkest moments. He still missed Conner desperately, always would most likely, but for his health and his future he needed to let him go. And step number one was ignoring the ghostly voice in his head and the apparitions in front of him. It’s weird; he hasn’t conjured up Kon much lately. There was that one realistic episode in Paris but other than that it’s been quiet. He takes it as a sign of healing.

“What’s your deal man?” The ghost demands, throwing out his hands in frustration. “You were so distant and weird last week in Paris and now, what, you can’t even look at me now?” He steps closer, “Am I invisible or something? I’ve been back nearly 3 weeks and I can’t get anything out of you.” Conner explains with his hands on his hips like he always used to do when he was angry. Tim thinks he picked the habit up from Cassie maybe even Mrs. Kent. He should see how they’re doing, he’s pretty much kept his phone on silent since he left Gotham months ago.

The messages from his friends and family had been distracting during a time when he’d needed all of his mental prowess and now it was paying off. Tim’s gathered up his papers and nodding to himself, ok if he leaves now he meet up with Pru to discuss Ra’s next moves now that his scheme to dismantle the Bats has been stopped. He turns to leave the hotel and the ghost behind.

“Oh no, we’re not done talking yet,” the ghosts says, reaching to grab Tim out of the corner of his eye. Tim expects nothing, for the apparition to disappear, hopefully for good this time and for him to continue on his way. He’s not expecting the feel of warm skin on his forearm, fingers curling around him with carefully measured strength. He looks down and sees the hand gripping his arm firmly; he does an experimental tug and is fascinated to see that his arm doesn’t budge. “

Now I don’t know what is going on with you but ignoring me is not going to make it any better. Come on Tim, I know you’re probably mad at me for dying and now for coming back but we- holy crap dude are you okay?” And no, Tim isn’t really feeling very okay at the moment. He’s still staring at the fingers holding him there (there’s dirt under his fingers and his knuckles are dry, just like always when he’s been working at the farm why would he imagine that level of detail?) before bringing his eyes up to Conner’s face. The other boy is clear and in focus, nothing like the visions he’s used to catching just off to the side. Kon’s face scrunches in concern, almost as if he’s hearing the way Tim’s heart starts to stampede in his chest. Almost as if he were really here.

“You’re dead,” Tim says weakly, giving his arm another tug but it stays locked in Conner’s grip.

“Yeah dude,” Conner says slowly licking his lips. “I’m back, I have been back. For almost a month, the Legion was able to resurrect me like with Clark. The League and Titans said they’ve messaged you about it, but that you’ve been off on your own lately…” Now Conner’s grip is slackening and Tim takes the opportunity to rip his arm away. He feels dizzy, the edges of his vision are turning grey and sinking feeling hits his gut and almost makes him sick right there. Tim turns away, squeezing his eyes shut but he can’t get the voice to stop. “You’ve seen me, in Paris, we talked. You said you tried to clone me, that B’s still alive, remember?”

“I couldn’t stop,” Tim forces out, each word fighting to get out of his throat. “At the funeral, after Bart, after Bruce, I never stopped seeing you or hearing you in my head. I thought I was finally getting better until the visions started again.” He feels shaky and unsteady, just like before, but this time warm, muscular arms wrap around his middle and pull him until his flush against Conner’s back.

“I’m so sorry Tim,” and dammit if Tim can’t stop shaking as that familiar rumble resonates against his back. “I don’t know what happened while I was gone but I get that it wasn’t good. I’m sorry I left and I’m sorry if my memory hurt you. But I can tell you that I’m here now, this is happening. You and I? We’re real Tim.” He’s still shaking but Conner’s strength is holding him up, keeping him together.

“Just let it out, it’s okay. I’m here and I’m not going to leave you again. You’ve been holding it together for long, let me help you.” He leans his head back against Conner’s throat and lets himself feel all the emotions he’s packed away, all the longing and doubt and misery he swept aside. He would have fallen, if not for Conner holding him up but as he cries and properly begins to heal, he thinks he’s not going to be falling again.


	58. Timkon: Forgiveness Can You Imagine

Things changed with Conner after he came back and it’s mostly because Tim changed while Kon was gone. It was one of the many, many things that kept him awake at night. Most people would overjoyed that their boyfriend returned from the dead, would leap into their lover’s arms and never leave. Red Robin had nodded at Superboy the first time he saw him again, skipped right past the pleasantries and dove right into the case. Their interactions since then have been cordial, friendly even but there’s a palpable distance between them. Tim wants more than anything to bridge that distance, to go back to the way they used to be. But they weren’t those people any more. He had no idea how to deal with this new more reserved Kon just as he likely didn’t know what to make of Tim’s changes.

“You learned some new moves while I was away,” Kon grins, running his hand through his hair causing soot to sprinkle into his face. His nose wrinkled at the sensation; the old Tim might have teased him and playfully wiped at his face with his cape. Instead, he wraps the cape around him, the one that was heavy, with no trace of yellow on it. 

“I did,” Tim nods, surveying the damage of the recent battle. Not too bad considering what was at stake, it shouldn’t take too long to repair. Unlike some other things.

“We should spar sometime, it’s been too long,” Kon says casually, but Tim can see him glancing through his eyelashes. “I need to get used to your new style if we’re going to work in the field again, maybe catch something to eat afterwards.”

“I’ll see if I can work it into my schedule, maybe we could do something with all the Titans,” Tim grinds out and, if Conner’s face is anything to go by, he’s just as disappointed by Tim’s answer as he is. Tim clenches his fists inside his cape.

“Yeah, great,” Kon adds awkwardly, surveying the damage around them. They fall into silence, stagnant and uncomfortable like they’ve never been before. 

“We should-”

“When are-”

“Oh uh you first,” Tim mutters, looking down at his dust covered boots. 

“I uh,” Kon mumbles back before turning away entirely. “I was just wondering when you were going to stop being mad at me.”

“I’m not mad at you, Superboy,” Tim answers.

“Look, you can brood all you want but don’t stand there and pretend like I don’t know you inside and out,” Kon snaps back.

“You don’t,” Tim hisses, hunching his shoulders before he takes a steadying breath and forces himself to relax. “You don’t know what I went through, I’m not the same person you left. Now, come on, the others are probably waiting.” Tim turns to go but Conner grabs a hold of his arm, firmly but not hard enough that Tim couldn’t escape if he really wanted.

“You can lie to Batman but you can’t lie to me, Rob,” Kon frowned. 

“I’m not Robin anymore.”

“Like I give a shit,” Kon rolls his eyes, pulling Tim in closer by his arm until they’re nearly chest to chest. “You’ll always be Robin, even when you’re old and grey and have liver spots. You’ll always be my best friend, no matter what stupid costume you’re in or what name you go by.” Kon squeezes his arm lightly and Tim can see the defeat in his eyes. “I thought no matter how south the world got, I thought I’d always have you.”

“Well I thought that too and look at what happened,” Tim says quietly. “You’re still my best friend, Kon, it’s just, hard, having you back.”

“Why,” Kon breathes, leaning down a bit so Tim can feel his breath ghosting across his skin. The air between them gets tenser as Tim is reminded of how close they are. He feels the warm, firm pressure of Kon’s hand on his bicep, sees up close really for the first time all the details his grief stricken brain had forgotten. Kon’s hand releases his arm and runs the backs of his fingers oh so gently down the side of Tim’s face. “Why is it so hard for us, why can’t we go back to how things were?”

“We can’t go back, only forward,” Tim responds, unable to pull away from Kon’s touch. He makes the mistake of looking at his deep rich blue eyes, a perfect mix of Clark’s alien electric blue and Lex’s steel blue-green and he finds he can't look away. 

“Ok,” Kon smiles, “my name is Superboy, I’m interested in comic books, flying and bird watching. Let’s go on a date this Friday. My ex used to dig this noodle shop in downtown ’Frisco. I’ll even pay.”

“I,” Tim says, still lost in those eyes. God he’d missed them, missed him, missed this. “Okay,” he says before he can second guess himself and it feels so good. “Yeah, I’ll be there.” Kon smiles, not a big broad smile like he used to do when he was feeling romantic. It’s small and sincere and fits him, this new him. Maybe it can fit this new Tim too. Maybe they can fit together again. 

“Looking forward to it,” Kon’s hand turns and cups Tim’s face and there's a such a blistering want to lean into that touch that he’d lost and craved for months, nearly tore himself apart because he’d missed it. And now it was back and it’s like being born again; painful and exhilarating. Kon’s close enough for a kiss and Tim thinks maybe someday he’ll be ready for that again. Instead he turns his face into Kon’s palm and kisses it gently. “I missed you.”

“Yeah, I missed you too,” Tim sighs. There’s probably going to be pictures of this all the over the evening news. The Team is going to go nuts asking if they’re a couple again. B and the others are going to give him a hard time about getting distracted in the field. But that’s all background right now, all that matters is right in front of him. “And for the record, I did forgive you for dying. I forgave you the moment you came back.”

“Tell me again on Friday,” Kon’s smile drifts into a kind of concerned frown. “I want to hear, from you not from anyone else, what you went through. I’m not gonna leave you again, Rob, I’m gonna make this right.”

Tim hides his smile in Kon’s hand, it’s reasons like this he forgave Kon for leaving him. It’s the reason like this he fell in love in the first place and why he’ll fall in love all over again.


	59. Bruce Introduces Thomas and Martha to their Grandkids

His parents were right in front of him. Thomas and Martha Wayne, who have been dead going on 30 years, have appeared in the middle of the broken battlefield in the aftermath of a rather nasty League fight. They’re dressed as they were the day they died, with looks of shock on their face as they take in the sudden shift in surroundings. He vaguely hears Zatanna talking in the background about the emotional tether used to defeat Felix Faust brought them to the present, probably just moments before their deaths.

“Bruce, it’s not going to last long, a few minutes at the very most,” Zatanna says with sad, compassionate eyes. He nods, understanding that this little miracle won’t last forever but he’ll take advantage of it while he can. There’s so much he wants to tell them, about his life, about his accomplishments, how much he loves and misses them. But all those seem like such bland topics, not when there are better and brighter things to discuss.

“Bruce?,” his mother, ever perceptive says cautiously and he does not hesitate in removing his cowl. He trusts his teammates, his friends, to give him these precious few minutes of privacy in the deserted city. “My god look at you, you’re all grown up.” She takes a step forward and brings a hand up to his cheek. He leans into it for the briefest moment before gently taking her shoulders and turning her towards the others.

“See the man with the blue stripes on his costume,” he begins and he sees Dick look over curiously to be suddenly included. “That’s Richard though he goes by Dick, he’s your first grandson. He lost his parents at a young age so I gave him a home at the Manor. He’s a police officer during the day but he still makes time to go out with the family. He’s the most stubbornly optimistic person I’ve met and he saved me in every way possible, I can’t take credit for his accomplishments because he just naturally that kind and talented.”

His father steps forward as he gestures over to Jason who looks a bit like a deer in the headlights. “That’s Jason, I caught him stealing the tires off my car and adored him immediately. He’s a voracious reader with a powerful stage presence that makes Alfred proud. He gives me the strength to be more than a vigilante, to tackle crime where it lives in corrupt institutions. I… lost him for a time, but he’s come back to us and being able to have my son back has been the greatest joy in my life, second only to knowing him in the first place.”

“That’s Tim, in the red and gold,” he continues, the warm bodies at his side as they always should have been. “He came to me in my greatest hour of need and reminded me why I fight so hard for the city and Batman needs a Robin to keep him straight but also to give him purpose. He’s CEO of Wayne Enterprises now and doing far better than I ever did, he enjoys skateboarding and snack foods and computers. If I had a hundred years I could never explain the feeling I get being able to work alongside such a brilliant and loving soul.”

“Over there is Cassandra, she was meant to be a weapon by her father but she came to me and asked to learn how to use her skills for justice. The peacekeeper of her brothers when she’s not egging them on, she is also a stunning ballet dancer and I gave her a set of your pearls, Mother. She looks just as beautiful as you did in them.” Out of the corner of his eye, he sees that his parents are starting blur on the edges. His heart clenches and for the briefest moment is tongue is heavy with all the things he wants to share and all the emotions he’s not used to expressing in words. But then his eyes settle on Damian and the words come forward once more.

“Damian is my blood son from an amazing woman I met who I hope someday to bring home. He came into my life just a few years ago and, while I would give anything to have watched him grow, I am privileged enough to know him now. He has come so far in such a short period of time and I could not be more proud. He takes care of animals and is an impeccable artist, he takes after his mother but most days I can see you two within him.” His children stare openly at them and he looks at them all long and hard in the eye before turning back to the muddled visages of his mother and father, faded like an old photograph. He misses, misses them every day of his life with a low level aching grief that never went away but most days, the warmth of his new family reminds him that love doesn’t end, it just takes on new faces and comes around again.

“There’s others, Barbara and Stephanie are fellow heroes, cherished allies and friends I consider like nieces. Duke is making his own path, alongside but separate from me to create a safer Gotham. Cousin Kate does her own amazing work, doing what I often cannot. Selina has made mistakes but she’s moving forward to be a hero in her own right and a trusted confidant.” He adds in a rush as they grow more and more washed out. He reaches out and lays a hand on his father’s shoulder but there’s barely any substance there.

“I miss you but everything turns out fine for me. Alfred raised me right and he’s just as much my parent as you both are. I’ve wanted for so long to introduce you to your grandchildren because they bring such light and joy into my life, I wanted to share them with you.” They look away from him and over at the children in their various states of injury and disrepair but Bruce can see that doesn’t matter to them. Mother tucks a wisp of hair behind her ear and blows a kiss while Father gives a small smile and nods at them.

“We’re happy for you, Bruce. Take care of them, son,” Thomas says just as he fades away entirely, the last word held aloft briefly by the wind before dying down completely leaving the heroes alone once more. Bruce takes a deep steadying breath as he imagines them going back to the past only to be gunned down. Instead of focusing on such grim thoughts, he looks at the result of their lives: a mismatched family of friends and lost children come together for a common cause and held together by love.

It’s Cassandra who approaches him first, stepping forward gently but resolutely and folds herself against his chest. He holds her tight, only moving when the others crowd forward and try to squeeze in as well. Dick buries face in the cowl’s neck to hide his tears and Tim ends up squashed between Cass and him. Damian was closer to his back, curling up tightly in his cape while Jason stood a bit on the periphery but still undeniably within the groups’ orbit. He feels his children, alive and infuriating and the brightest spots in his life and he smiles to himself. This truly is the final lesson his parents taught him, that the best treasure in life is to spend it with those you love. And by that philosophy, Bruce Wayne is rich indeed.


	60. Captain Marvel: The Best of Us

“You filthy ugly excuse for a man,” Hawkgirl screamed, holding the bomber up by the shirt, screaming into his face. “Do you know how many people you would have killed if that bomb had gone off?”

“Hawkgirl,” Wonder Woman warned but her hands were loose at her side, making no move to intervene. She believed in peace, fought for it but sometimes force was needed to ensure it.

“I won’t kill him,” the woman exclaimed, at odds with the way she’d pulled back her fist. “But he might not make it to prison with all his teeth in his skull.” 

“Sheyera that’s not how we do things,” Superman lectured from the periphery, coming back from talking with the police about clean-up.

“Well maybe we should,” she said through gritted teeth. She threw her punch and her intended target closed his eyes with pained resignation. Her fist was stopped mere inches from his face by a powerful grip on her forearm.

“Stop,” Captain Marvel said, his perfect brow wrinkled with displeasure. “It’s like Superman said, that’s not how we do things. We’re supposed to be better than that.”

“What? Better than him?” she demanded, dropping the criminal to ground. “He was going to blow police headquarters to high heaven and you want me to be better than him? That’s like asking me to be better than the dirt under my heels.”

“We’re not gods,” he said with such conviction even though he technically was one. “We’re all people, just because some of us have power doesn’t make us any better.” 

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Hawkgirl defended weakly as shame crept up her spine. Though normally quiet, Captain Marvel had this intense ability to change the whole course of a conversation with just a few words. “But he is a bad guy, are we not supposed to take down bad guys.”

“Power comes in many forms,” Cap said with narrowed eyes letting go of her arm to look over at the man she’d dropped. Despite the fact that he loomed over the man, he didn’t seem the least bit threatening. “Have you ever been so hungry you felt too weak to move? Been so cold you couldn’t remember what it felt like to be warm? Been beaten down by people who were supposed to help you only to hurt time and again? It’s easy to criticize one another, to lord over your high ground when you’ve never been through those things.”

Silence clung to the air like ice from a tree, hanging there heavily and just waiting to fall. For the truth was most of them hadn’t experienced the hardships described, hardships they knew many of their rogues had. How could a man who came from the gods speak as if he knew from experience? And even if he had gone through those things, how could he remain so kind?

“It doesn’t take back anything this man, or any criminal has done but a little bit of understanding can go a long way. Not every one is capable of change but we as heroes should always offer compassion and a listening ear.” He knelt down a little and offered out his hand to the man who was staring up at the hero with wide eyes. “Why did you make that bomb?”

“The-the cops,” the man, not more than his early twenties were they to guess. “They’re always out to get us. They cater to those who can pay them and leave the rest to fend for ourselves or worse. My father was jailed for trying to bring a case against them and they shot my brother for having a hairbrush in his back pocket. I just,” he squeezed his eyes shut, “I just wanted them to feel for a moment what its like to be us, to be afraid all the time.”

“I hear you,” Marvel said, pulling him to his feet. “You felt you didn’t have a choice but there’s always another choice, killing people should never be an option. But the Justice League will look into the city’s police corruption and try and do something about it.”

“Thank you,” the man cried, thick tears running down his face. “Thank you, I’m so sorry, I didn’t want to hurt anyone honest. Thank you so much.” His platitudes were cut off by officers coming over and shoving him roughly into the car, eyeing the heroes with clear discomfort. From the backseat of the police car, the man continued to mouth his thanks.

“You know you’re just giving him what he wants, justifying this whole ordeal,” Wonder Woman stated plainly, not taking any side, more curious to see how the other hero would react. “He may try and do something like this again for attention once he gets out.”

“I’m not going to let people suffer just to punish one man’s desperation,” Marvel said with pursed lips. “And maybe you’re right and maybe we’ll be called out again to stop another disaster. But people deserve the right to second chances, to have hope for a better tomorrow.” He smiled suddenly and the solemn mood was broken. 

“Well, it was real nice seeing you again but I need to be headed back home, you have my number if you need me,” the hero grinned, miming a phone to his ear before taking to the skies. 

“You know, I don’t know if I’ll ever figure that man out,” Wonder Woman sighed fondly. It was good they had someone like him on their team, someone who reminded them how beautiful and painful it was to be human.

“I know,” Superman smiled, waving at the Captain as he did one last fly by. “He’s the best of us. Now come on, let’s get out of here and put in an inquiry for the local law enforcement.”


	61. Isolation AU: The Young, the Old and the Insane

There are three categories of people who know for certain that the Gotham City Batman exists. The young children in their paper masks who look up at the sky and believe that the man dressed as a bat could save the day. The older generation who’ve been around the block and have noticed a marked change in crime since the supposed Batman appeared. And of course the costumed criminals of Gotham who are regularly foiled by the city’s silent avengers. But there is another subset who knew about Batman who fell under the first category or maybe the third and those are the young sidekicks of Justice League heroes.

If asked about the mysterious Batman, they would laugh, “Batman, as if, everyone knows he isn’t real.” But there’d be a certain quirk to their smile, a hidden joke that only they know the punchline to. For perhaps they know the Bat Man and his associates better than even the citizens of Gotham. You could say that a _little bird_  told them all about the mysterious hero.

“You said your name was Robin?” Speedy asked with a raised eyebrow as he observed the costumed kid eating  _their_  cereal, perched precariously on the back of the couch. He should be more angry this weird kid broke into their secret hideout but he’s more annoyed than anything given his story. “And you work with Batman, that made-up vigilante.”

“He’s not made-up, you’re just not immune to GCPD’s propaganda and B’s intense paranoia,” Robin quipped, Aqualad snorted into his fist and Speedy crossed his arms in annoyance.

“Okay, so Batman is real. That’s kind of a big deal, so why are here talking to us and not presenting before the League,” Wonder Girl asked, still standing slightly in front of her team in case this newcomer proved dangerous. 

“Because I’ve been at this for a good while, at least twice as long as you guys, and I know a thing or two about the so called Justice League. I know they don’t respect human heroes and delegate them mostly to monitor duty,” Robin said making eye contact with Speedy who looked down. “I know they treat young heroes, metas even, with kid gloves and don’t involve them in anything meaningful,” he continued looking over at Kid Flash and Aqualad. “And I know they won’t believe in the good work me and Batman do because we don’t fit the idea of what a hero should be.” 

“And so you’re here why?” Donna asked again only she couldn’t stop the small smile from appearing on her face.

“Because I got mad at B and realized it’s probably not healthy to brood in a cave all the time and decided to find some friends,” He tilted his head in a teasing manner. “Unless you’re gonna tell on me to which I’ll be long gone before the League catches sight of my cape.”

“Pretty confident in yourself huh shorty,” Wally grinned, leaning a bit over the back of the sofa by the other hero. 

“There’s a reason no one knows about us, Wallace,” Rob teased back and in the complete disarray that followed that revelation, Donna decided that their little ragtag team created out of boredom and frustration with the League’s tedium had finally become complete. 

(In the weeks and months and years that followed and the adults questioned the overwhelming success of the Teen Titans, the four heroes merely bowed their heads and credited their mentors for doing such a good job teaching them. And of course that played a part plus it was better than mentioning their on again, off again secret member who organized the Team better than even the League.)

((No one would believe them anyway if they said anything.))

XxX

“I think you should talk to your dad,” Captain Marvel said, awkwardly handling his game controller in his unnaturally large adult hands. Video games weren’t strictly allowed in League Headquarters but the group was constantly in a state of loose, unorganized chaos so he doubted anyone would notice or care. Least of all his companion.

“He’s not my dad,” Robin muttered, hunching over his controller, trying to overtake the magical hero’s Kirby with his Waluigi. 

“You’re here complaining he’s being too over-protective, sorry if I’m not buying what you’re selling,” Marvel said with a wry grin. Rob brought out Billy in Cap more than anyone else, made him feel like less of an impostor in a too big suit.

“I just needed to get out ya know? Get away from Gotham and all the pressure to live up to this impossible standard,” Robin continued, flinging his controller a bit as if that would save him from running off the road. He cursed as he tried to right himself.

“Then go hang out with the Titans,” Marvel said, his passive tone at odds with the full body wiggle he did as he cemented his lead and sped closer to the finish line. 

“Those are Golden Boy’s buds and I do  _not_ need any more of his hand-me-downs,” Robin said. “Sides they’re all older, there aren’t many heroes around our age. You should convince the League to recruit more sidekicks.”

“Right, I’ll tell Superman that they need to find some more kids between the ages of 12 and 16 to be sidekicks because Robin, Batman’s partner also probably Mothman’s lovechild or something, wants more friends,” Marvel teased even as he threw his hands up in victory when he came in first.

“You suck,” Robin laughed, watching as Waluigi rolled in 4th. “And I don’t need more friends, I got you Bill. If only you’d stop using your magic mumbo to cheat at Mario Kart.” 

“It’s not cheating if I play against someone who doesn’t exist,” Marvel retorted, looking over at his best friend. They didn’t meet up nearly often as he liked, only when Rob was able to escape Batman’s attentive eye but every time was a small treasure. “And believe me, you’re more than living up to your big brother. Pretty sure Robin I never dared to break into League headquarters to play video games. You’re an amazing hero, I wish I could work with you in the daytime.”

“Yeah, me too,” A device on Rob’s hip beeped. “Looks like our time’s up, a couple of Lanterns are on the floor which means I’m out. Stay safe out there, Bill.”

“You too Robin,” the Captain said, closing his eyes excitedly for a few seconds and opening them to find his friend vanished. Man that never stopped being super cool. Mr. Jordan and Stewart appeared through the double doors a minute later. 

“Jeez, playing video games by yourself, Cap? Talk about depressing, invite one of us next time,” Hal commented as he walked by.

“I wasn’t alone, Batman’s son was keeping me company,” Marvel shrugged as he put the controllers away.

“Right and Bigfoot sold me a bridge in San Francisco, seriously, get another joke man. The Batman ones are getting old.”

(Eight months later, Captain Marvel went missing for several days. When he finally showed up, he had the most heart-breaking somber expression on his face. “A good friend died,” was all he would say. ‘We’re sorry to hear,’ the League said, ‘was it someone we knew?” And for some reason that made him sadder.)

XxX

“Thanks for coming out Rob, we really needed your big brain on this one,” Wonder Girl said, wiping her brow and surveying the damage from the difficult battle. 

“I’d say no problem but you guys can’t keep calling me on such short notice, Batman’s gonna wonder how many last minute science projects they can give me in a semester,” the Boy Wonder sighed, reorganizing his utility belt.

“Oh you stickler, you always say that and you always come running,” she fluttered her eyelids, “especially when  _Kon_  is in danger, then you’re almost as fast as Bart.” 

“Of course he’s my friend,” Robin muttered, fiddling with his gloves to avoid looking at her. 

“The Justice League aren’t the only ones in denial, Robbie,” she teased, before looking back on the horizon. “Man we kicked so much butt today, I know why all the secrecy we’d be so much better if we had you with Young Justice full time and didn’t always have to worry about photos and stuff.”

“I know Cassie,” Rob said, hunching his shoulders and turning away from her further. “I get why B does what he does but we do good work, the Titans did good work when they had their Robin with them. Batman is so organized, so disciplined, he would bring so much to the Justice League which acts more like a club than an actual hero institution.” 

“You know, you could just, come out. None of you have to stay hidden, everyone knows about heroes now,” Cassie explained weakly but even she could see the flaws in the plan.

“We’ve talked about it,” Robin, Tim, sighed. “But B is pretty set in his ways and, well, the League is pretty clear on what it thinks of human heroes.”

“You don’t have to tell them, I thought you were a meta for months after you showed up,” Bart said, speeding up to them suddenly. “Not that you’re not super wicked kick-ass as a normal person but it might work.”

“If we’re coming out, we’re coming all the way out, I lie enough in my day job,” he pouted, turning back to Bart. “Weren’t you transporting the civilians out?”

“Done but also Wally texted me that the JLA is almost here and you need to skedaddle.” Robin cursed and grabbed the rest of his gear off the ground, sprinting towards his bike. 

“Jeez thanks for the warning! You keep them busy, my armor isn’t perfect and people like Superman and the Manhunter would be able to pick me out if they were looking,” Rob said in a rush. “See you later and please don’t call suddenly like that.”

“It’s the only way we see you, Kon gets lonely you know,” Bart grinned, waggling his eyebrows but Robin had already zipped off. 

“So what are we going to tell them this time?” Bart asked Cassie.

“Oh whatever we want, anything’s more believable than one of  _The Bats_ showing up to save the day.”

(The League, as always, heaped praises on them for their good work. They merely smiled that strange little secret smile the kids sometimes wore. The same smile the Teen Titans had and still did now. The smile Captain Marvel hid behind his mighty fist. A secret right in front of their nose but never seen.)

XxX

Batman was real, he’d always been real. A human man and his human associates had kept the worst of Gotham at bay with their wit and their tools. It was unimaginable, it was absurd, nobody could have possibly could have known.

“Batman?” The kids say with that secret little smile. “You could have just asked us.” 


	62. Captain Marvel: Little Matchstick Boy

“Captain, are you alright?” Diana asked stepping around the other Leaguers to reach the magical man. There had been something off about him the entire meeting, he had been unusually silent with a drawn, pensive look about him. Though he appeared, as always, in perfect health there was something about him that looked vulnerable. Conversation around them stopped, evidently Diana had not been the only one to notice the unusual behavior. 

“Me?” He asked with surprise, pulling his gaze from the window where the stars twinkled. “Of course, I’m just fine.”

“You seem hung up on something,” Barry said with an inviting smile. Marvel’s eyes ducked down in avoidance. 

“It’s not that big of a deal, just processing something is all, I didn’t mean to disturb anyone,” he said, making to stand up before Diana put her hand on his shoulder.

“It is not a bother, we merely wish to ensure you are well. And though you are mighty in strength it is easy to be worn down by the stresses of this job. It helps to talk about it, I promise. That is the point of the Justice League, to support each other,” she smiled. Marvel smiled back before relaxing, letting his gaze be drawn back to the endless expanses of space.

“I don’t know, it really is kind of stupid to get hung up on something like this but I got a little lost earlier,” he explained, ending in a gentle whisper that hovered heavily in the air.

“You got lost?” Hal said from the other side of the table. Cap was right it  _did_ seem a bit silly but the vulnerable look on the god-like man’s face told the Lantern that it wasn’t a laughing matter. “What happened, why didn’t you call for help?”

“I didn’t need it,” Captain explained, “I had just dropped off a couple of would be robbers at the police station and… decided to put my feet up for a bit.”

_“ **Shazam!** ” the magic lightning came down transforming the Fawcett City Marvel back into Billy Batson, useless, unwanted ward of the state. Gravity took hold once more on his small body, weighing down on his bones and reminding him how far he was away from the untouchable Captain Marvel. He shivered in the biting air. Officially spring was here but winter had decided to push through one last vicious cold snap. The sign outside the bank had said it was 16 degrees out but he could feel through his thin jacket that the wind chill was much colder._

_But the shelters would all be full at this late hour and he had some blankets at the place he was currently holed up at. He’d be fine and if he decided it got too cold, he’d simply say the magic word and change back into the Cap. Billy hated using his powers for his own advantage, especially when the other kids on Fawcett’s streets didn’t have that luxury but as long as he was Captain Marvel, he had a responsibility to take care of himself and getting sick would only get in the way of that._

“So it was after you stopped the robbery?” Manhunter asked with a wrinkled brow. 

“Yeah, I was just, relaxing in the only way I could when I noticed it was getting kind of cold out. I’m uh impervious to the elements but it was noticeable.”

_Billy trudged forward, clutching his thin jacket close to him. The wind was blowing directly into his face and it seemed to sneak in all the small warm places Billy had been trying to protect. His face and hands were soon aching then numb from the constant onslaught and his whole body was trembling with cold. Criminey, didn’t old man Winter know that it was spring already? He licked at his chapped and sticky lips only for them to be chilled once more._

_Almost to his place now, he stopped at the crosswalk and looked both ways. The Don’t Cross sign was lit up but no one was around and it was super cold out. He got a few steps out into the street when a car skidded around a corner and raced through the intersection, Billy jumped back quickly enough but not quick enough to avoid being splashed by a large puddle._

_“Out of the road you dumb brat! The man in the car shouted as he continued driving. Billy stood there for an extra moment or two, shaking both from the near miss and also because his pants and the bottom half of his hoodie were soaked through with muddy water. The wind, already bothersome, became biting and painful. He glared for a moment after the car before deciding it wasn’t worth it for Marvel to intervene. Hugging himself as best he could, he continued his march home hoping nothing else happened.  
_

“The midwest has been getting hit with some cold weather the last week but it’s only been in the teens, last month you were standing without a care in the world at the south pole,” Barry said with a frown as he tried to understand. Marvel clenched and unclenched his fist nervously. 

“Like I said, it’s pretty stupid,” he deflected, still not looking at them. “It was cold but not that cold, people were out living their lives without care, I didn’t have anyone to save so I was just existing. I… I don’t know, I guess I started feeling very far away.”

“Were you still in Fawcett City?” Clark asked.

“I mean yeah I was but I also wasn’t, I was trying to get somewhere but I was having trouble.”

_It took Billy’s numb, shivering hand an extra 30 seconds or so to jimmy the lock on his window so he could crawl through to his temporary home. It was in an old rundown apartment building, up three stories on the fire escape but the main door was rotted and impassible and no adult could get through this window. He slithered into the window and fell to the floor with a thump. Feeling far too achy and tired, he decided to just lay there for an extra few minutes before he got up and changed out of his wet clothes and got into his blankets._ Just a few minutes _, he thought distantly to himself as his eyelids dropped heavily._

“So it was cold and you were alone and your spirit got lost,” Diana said with sorrow coloring her voice. 

“I just,” the Captain looked down at his hands, strong, big, so different from Billy’s pale skinny hands with tearing skin and dirty fingernails. “It was just an ordinary day and yet I could feel myself getting lost, my soul I mean. I was physically there but I was getting pulled further and further away. It didn’t even seem to be a problem, everything about me had dulled, if that car hadn’t backfired…”

_Billy’s eyes opened at the loud sound outside his window._  Car _, his tired mind supplied._ Don’t worry about it, go back to sleep _, his body seemed to say as his eyelids grew impossibly heavy once more. It was funny, he was still lying on the floor near his open window in wet clothes but he didn’t even feel all that cold anymore. He wasn’t shivering or anything, all the aches he’d felt earlier… they weren’t quite gone but they just didn’t seem important right now. Nothing seemed as important as getting back to sleep. He’d never been this tired in his entire life and he’d hardly even done anything today, even Cap had a fairly easy day._

_Cap, that seemed to stick and settle in his mind. The word rolled around his head a little bit. He was Captain Marvel, he could be the Big Red Cheese at any moment, including right now. Billy, he was just another no name kid without friends or purpose but Cap, he had a whole watchtower full of friends and a job to protect the people of Earth. Billy blinked slowly, practically forcing his eyes to open each time. Captain Marvel was important, Billy wasn’t but the Cap couldn’t be here without Billy._

_It occurred to him that he couldn’t move, not really, his limbs felt heavy and even twitching his fingers seemed beyond him right now. No one really pays attention to their breathing but it seemed slow, shallow, like he wasn’t getting enough air but couldn’t take in any deeper breaths. He couldn’t get his thoughts together at all but he got the sense that he needed to get up and get warm right now. His fingernails scratched on the floor as he sought to push himself up but he only managed to get a few inches before his strength left him and he fell back to the floor. His whole body was so numb, he barely even felt the impact. There was only one option, he licked at his lips._

_“Sh-” he croaked and it was hardly more than a squeak. He coughed and tried again, “Sha-” he begged but the incomplete word summoned nothing more than another weak pathetic cough. The effort it was talking to say the magic word was wearing him out and the edges of his vision were starting to blur and fade to grey. For the first time since he changed back to Billy, true emotion burst through him as he realized that if he didn’t get that one word out then he might never say it again. Never say anything again.  
_

_“ **Shazam!** ”  
_

“So then what?” Barry half-demanded, leaning a bit over the table. It was a whimsical, almost childlike story but something in the back of his head was beating urgency into him, something just out of reach that was constantly knocking him on the head as far as the Captain was concerned.

“That was it, I kind of came back into myself. I shook my head, decided I was done with the cold for a bit so I was hanging out in the Sahara. Did a few good deeds, rescued a few people from a burning building, kind of kept myself busy until the meeting. I guess, I don’t know I guess it was the first downtime I allowed myself after it all went down so it made me a little reflective I guess.”

“Well are you okay now,” Clark asked skeptically.

“I’m always fine,” Marvel grinned but it was a far cry from his usual smile. Clearly the man had gone through something deeply profound, something none of them could even begin to imagine. But he was here now and he might not be alright at the moment but they would make sure he was.

“Thank you for trusting us with your burden friend,” Diana said, once more grasping at his hand. “It sounds like it was a very distressing situation but we are all here for you. No matter how lost you get, we will always be your home.”

“Thank you, Ms Diana,” the Captain said warmly, looking alive for the first time since he arrived. “You don’t know how much that means to me. I’ll keep that in mind and be more aware of when I’m… getting lost.” 

“Please do, now, we all have homes we would like to go home to, including you Marvel,” she added.

“I think I’ll stay here a little while longer, if that’s alright. This right here is my favorite view in the whole wide world.”

“As you wish, we will leave you to your privacy, take care,” with that, the Princess strode from the room and many Leaguers followed, after giving the Cap a few warm and encouraging words.

“Bruce, come on, you got a kid who needs you at home,” Clark said, grabbing his friend by the arm but he didn’t budge. “Bruce?” The other man was tense, his gauntlets were gripping each other tightly and in the little bit of exposed skin Clark could see, he could tell Bruce was rather pale.

“You’re right Kent, I have a child to attend to. Go home, I’ll be out in a minute,” he said with a low growl. “Believe me when I say we will all be discussing this later. No one is ever getting  _lost_  again."

 

 


	63. JLA at the Beach

“Hey Cap, can you switch shifts with me? I need New Years off because Carol wants to go to this New Years party and I need off monitor duty,” Billy looked over at Hal over his borrowed, too big sunglasses. Clark had declared that they were working too hard and proposed a beach day; Bruce had grumbled but offered up one of his private beaches anyway. He was probably getting way more work done here than he did between Dick and Jason bugging him.

“Sure,” he shrugged, going back to the comic book that Clark had borrowed him. 

“Way to pawn off crappy shifts on the 10 year old,” Ollie muttered not too quietly out of the corner of his mouth. Billy groaned quietly to himself, settling in for another argument  _about him_  but not  _with him._

“Hey we all voted to keep the kid in the League,” Hal defended, “that means he’s got just as much power and responsibility as the rest of us. I was looking at the schedule and saw he was available. What do you want in return, Bill? I can’t do Christmas but I can take your Memorial Day.”

“It really doesn’t matter, Mr. Jordan,” Billy sighed, “it’s not like I ever have any plans over the holidays.” He instantly regretted his words as a familiar hush fell over the happy little group. They may have accepted him as Captain Marvel and, reluctantly, allowed him to continue living his life but that doesn’t mean they’re happy about it.

“While we’re on the subject of schedules, we should set aside times for regular meetings,” Bruce interrupted before it got too awkward. He looked over his laptop, commanding everyone’s attention and drawing it away from Billy to his immense relief. He set down his comic and scooted closer.

“We normally meet every Wednesday, is that still acceptable?” He asked as everyone else whipped out their phones, tablets or pocket calendars. Billy looked down at the sand and wrote a big W. 

“I’m actually taking some night classes on painting and most happen to fall on Wednesdays, any chance we can move to Thursday?” Diana asked. Everyone went back over their phones. 

“Some of my business meetings are on Thursdays but this would be a good excuse to leave early,” Ollie said with a wry grin.

“Actually Thursdays work better more me, Iris also works late on Thursdays so that leaves us Wednesdays free for date nights,” Barry added, furiously typing on his tablet. Billy wiped out the W he had written in the sand and replaced it with a Th. 

“Do you,” Clark said next to him hesitantly, “do you need something to write on?” 

“Nah, I got it all up here,” Billy said, tapping at his temple.

“Well how do you keep track of your schedule?” Barry asked, holding up his tablet calendar with all it’s multicolored dates and appointments.

“I memorize the schedule when its comes out and then look at the bank sign for what day it is,” Billy nodded. Honestly it’d been working out pretty well so far, he’d only missed a few meetings and it was mostly because he’d been held up.

“Christ, as soon as we’re done here I’m buying you a phone, kid,” Ollie said with an eyeroll.

“I don’t need a phone,” Billy sighed, “It’d only make me a target for theft and, besides, I don’t have electricity in my building to charge it or anything.”

“I thought  _you_  were electricity?” Hal squinted.

“Yeah but magic lightning doesn’t really work well with technology,” Billy frowned. “I tried to fix the microwave at the local shelter and it ended up exploding.” He still hasn’t gone back to that shelter. How exactly was he supposed to explain how he got bits of microwave parts embedded in the ceiling? 

“We all have our own systems, if you say it’s not a problem then we must simply accept it,” Diana interrupted. “Now back to business, what day are we having the communal birthday party? We almost always hold it in June, would the 29th work for everyone?” Billy wrote 29 in the sand and stared at it until the number locked in his head. He needed to find something to bring to that.

“Alright, I’ll put that in the master schedule and send it out to everyone. Billy, would you like a printed copy?” Bruce asked.

“I’m fine really,” Billy insisted, standing up and stretching. “If you guys really want to help me, you can help me build the biggest sandcastle imaginable.” 

“Oh I am so in,” Hal said throwing his phone over his shoulder and sprinting to the shoreline. “Last one there is a rotten egg.” Barry and Diana followed at super speed; Billy gaped for a minute before chasing after. 

“Cheaters! If I had the Speed of Mercury now you’d all be on your asses”

**Author's Note:**

> All of these were previously put up on tumblr, my url is  redrobin-detective  if you want to swing by


End file.
